


The Seeds of Ill Will

by Angstosaur



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alien Biology, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Injuries, Post-Episode: s02e13 Exit Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-02-24 00:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 102,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13201962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstosaur/pseuds/Angstosaur
Summary: The seeds of ill will were sown when Gray took out his hatred of Jack on the city of Cardiff. Resentful after the attacks on the police station, the Cardiff police are no longer fully co-operating with Torchwood's investigations. Torchwood are held accountable for the death and destruction wreaked on the city, and the population at large views them with suspicion and distrust.So, when an unusual series of events occurs that may be linked to the opening of the Rift, the team find themselves working against not only time, but the emergency services as well, when they try to save each other and the inhabitants of the city they serve. Jack is once again torn between his duty and his heart.This story follows on from my story 'Torn Apart' but it does not need to be read first - basically it is set post Exit Wounds, but in a different reality, where both Toshiko and Owen survived.





	1. Chapter 1

The seed had drifted down like thistledown, feathery and light, just like a dandelion parachute seed, except that it was a vivid shade of purple. It had settled on a shabby rooftop in a street of rundown shops, takeaway restaurants and a seedy looking nightclub to the north east of the city. It had lodged against a chipped slate tile and stayed there until a downpour had washed it down and into the gutter. 

The grey, plastic channel was clogged up with moss, dead leaves and scraps of litter carried there from the street by gulls and south westerly winds. The seed had flourished in the nutrient rich detritus and imbibing the slightly acidified rain water it had started to swell up. A day later and fibrous roots had penetrated the material blocking the drain, holding it firmly in place as a pale blue shoot arched up, coiled tight like an umbrella yet to be unfurled. 

Thin, spiny leaves gradually opened up, blue from pigments designed to absorb red and green wavelengths of light, having evolved under a different sun than the one the plant now found itself dependent upon for energy. Fortunately for it, there was nothing shading it high up on the rooftop and it was able to extract sufficient hydrocarbons from the polluted air to synthesise organic molecules needed for growth. Its fellow travellers that had fallen to the street had not been so lucky and had shrivelled up and died soon after germinating. 

Nobody saw the strange seedling flourishing high up above the street. It was tiny, barely a few centimetres in total length, its delicate frond-like leaves buffeted in the strong breeze, but it was a survivor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The men chasing the creature into the nightclub below were completely oblivious to the presence of another rift traveller in their midst. Even if they had spotted it, chances were that they wouldn’t have considered it anywhere near as dangerous as the sharp-toothed, boiler-suited extraterrestrial they were pursuing, but then again it had only just germinated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto – you go in there, check out the club – I’ll meet you round the back!”

“Why me? Do I look like I’m going to blend in with the regulars?” Ianto raised his eyebrows and gestured dramatically at the sharp pin-striped suit he was wearing. He sometimes wondered if Jack had any idea about dressing for the location. When he’d been invited out for an evening of ‘weevil-hunting’ this hadn’t exactly been the first thing that came to mind. He blamed Jack for the fact that he was no longer able to distinguish euphemism from reality. 

“Excuse me – military great coat?” Jack shouted back, raising his eyebrows higher than Ianto’s. His protestations meant nothing to Ianto as he knew that Jack wore that coat everywhere. Not that Ianto always minded, it had usefully doubled up as a blanket and kept him from catching a chill on numerous occasions.

“Bloody hell, if I get the crap beaten out of me, you’re paying for a private room at the hospital – got it?” Ianto scowled at Jack as he reluctantly agreed to follow orders.

“I’ll even buy you grapes – now hurry up and get that cute ass of yours in there before that weevil starts tucking into the ‘all you can eat’ buffet on display!”

Ianto shook his head, cursing under his breath as he pushed his way through a throng of scantily clad young women to get to the door. They were probably underage, but Jack had a point, they were definitely flashing enough flesh to tempt even an overfed weevil. He was beginning to question Jack’s motives for taking the outside of the club. 

His attempts to dodge a particularly persistent young woman, wearing massive heels that made her taller than him, proved futile, she shoved her bosom in his face and then grabbed his elbow, determined to steer her way into the club with him at her side. Whilst trying to disengage himself from her clutches, Ianto found himself blocked by the less attractive, but more formidable, chest of one of the bouncers. If the large man hadn’t been wearing a suit, poorly fitting and thinning at the elbows, Ianto could have easily mistaken him for a weevil in the dark. 

Although tempted to shove his gun in the man’s face and flash his Torchwood ID, it was easier to hand over a tenner and have a paper band taped around his wrist. He was just as likely to be thrown out for being part of Torchwood since Gray had run riot. Once inside, the woman gave him a kiss on the cheek and disappeared from sight. Rubbing the sticky lipstick from his face, he dashed off, taking the stairs two at a time, that was until he was further delayed by a plastic bowl of condoms being waved in his face by a surly looking man with a lot of facial hair. Attempts to politely decline the offer of a free GI Johnny condom proved futile so he grabbed a handful and shoved them in his jacket pocket. He swore that Jack would pay for this and he didn’t just mean the ten pounds entrance fee. 

The band inside weren't bad, thought Ianto as he scanned around the dimly lit bar area for a figure in a blue boiler suit. The strobe lighting that flickered across from the stage made it hard to detect anything out of the ordinary – or more to the point, anything not strange. Standing near the electric fan on the bar, which seemed to be the only source of moving air in the entire building, Ianto felt the drum beat throbbing in the air and the bass booming at such a low pitch that it made his stomach ache. The badly balanced speakers and poorly mixed sound made it difficult to hear what was being yelled at him from behind. A large hand slapped on his shoulder drew his attention to the barman who sported a Mohican and was apparently asking if he wanted a drink. Ianto shook his head and started to make his way through a cluster of giggling girls towards the stairway that led onto a balcony. He grimaced as the soles of his shoes stuck to the tacky floor that seemed to be coated with a veneer of spilt beer. 

Suddenly an ear-splitting screech rent the air and Ianto pulled his gun from his pocket, convinced that an innocent victim must have been attacked by the weevil that he was seeking. Before he knew what was happening, he was shoved unceremoniously to the floor, the air forced out of his lungs by a heavy mass that pinned him to the ground. He then he became acutely aware of a sharp pain as his arm was bent behind his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PC Andy Davidson couldn’t resist a smug smile as he accompanied Captain Jack Harkness to the cells to collect his sidekick. 

“Where did you get to then? According to Gwen you two are inseparable – like Cardiff’s very own dynamic duo, but without the flashy capes.”

“Busy,” grunted Jack, miserably. 

Jack had found the weevil in the rubbish skips at the back of the club, searching for food and he’d been furious when Ianto hadn’t replied to his call for assistance. He figured the other man was sulking and was annoyed with his attitude. It was after he’d restrained the weevil and dumped it in the back of the SUV, parked a way down the street, that he saw the police car pulling away from outside the club. He wondered if there had been more than one weevil, but not being able to get Ianto to answer his calls, Jack had been forced to ask a taxi driver standing at the edge of the crowd of bystanders what had happened. He gleefully told Jack about ‘some bloke in a suit’ who had pulled a gun inside the club. According to Jack’s willing informant, the bouncers had disarmed him and called the police in.

He really hoped they hadn’t hurt Ianto too much. 

“He’s not happy with you, I can tell you that,” Andy gleefully informed Jack.

“He’s not happy with me?” Jack was incredulous. He wasn't the one who had gone off radar.

“Kept muttering something about ‘fucking-Jack-fucking-Harkness’ and grapes…” Andy frowned. “Honestly though, what were the two of you thinking? Wandering around in Albany Road, waving guns about, that's just asking for trouble. Your mate was lucky there was a patrol car in the vicinity. Could’ve got nasty if we’d not pulled him in.”

Jack winced as he imagined the tongue-lashing he was in for, knowing that it wasn’t going to be the sort he enjoyed either.

Andy took a large bundle of keys and made a scene of locating the right key to open the door to Ianto’s cell. As he opened the door, Jack caught a glimpse of Ianto sitting on the bench, elbows on knees, head in his hands, as if unable to face him. 

“Ianto?”

“Don’t talk to me.” 

“Do you want me to get you outta here or not?” Jack spoke quietly, not wanting Gwen's confidante to witness them falling out. He wouldn’t rule out a dose of retcon if it helped Ianto forgive him any more quickly.

“Yes,” Ianto murmured in a low voice.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir,” came the bitter response.

“I was looking for ‘yes please’, but that’s good. Come on – let’s get you home.” 

Jack’s grin slipped from his face as Ianto lifted his head and stood up. 

“What the hell happened to you?”

Ianto’s face was littered with small cuts and bruises, his pale pink shirt was soiled with a variety of unsavoury looking stains and his tie was missing.

“Given the choice I would have aimed to miss the floor, but a massive bouncer took that decision out of my hands. So, I nose dived into several broken bottles and their contents. Fortunately I think it was too early for the puddles of vomit.”

“Oh.” Jack grimaced as he held out a hand cautiously; he wasn’t surprised when Ianto refused the offer of assistance. 

When they reached the front desk, Andy held out a clear plastic bag containing the items they’d removed from Ianto before locking him up. He made sure he held it up high enough for Jack Harkness to see each and every item.

“You’ll be wanting these back I take it? If you’d just like to check each item and sign for them.” Andy looked from Ianto to Jack, a mischievous grin on his face as he waited for a reaction from either of them.

The second Jack’s eyes had latched onto the contents of the bag was precisely the moment when Ianto wished the ground would open up and swallow him. Along with his firearm, stun gun, wallet, Bluetooth, car keys and tangled tie, were half a dozen condom packets. 

“Ianto Jones! You really were prepared for anything tonight, weren’t you?” exclaimed Jack exuberantly. 

“Fuck,” mouthed Ianto. There were times when he really wished Jack could be more subtle. 

“What was that?” Jack leaned around and picked up one of the brightly coloured packets for closer inspection.

“You owe me ten quid…” Ianto muttered between clenched teeth. “And grapes.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You shoulda told them you were Torchwood,” grumbled Jack, as he turned the key in the ignition. He looked at Ianto, wanting a response, but was annoyed when the other man refused to look at him, apparently preferring to stare out of the side window.

Eventually as Jack reversed out of the parking space, he heard Ianto’s response.

“I tried,” replied Ianto, between gritted teeth. He shut his eyes as he remembered shouting out, repeatedly – ‘I’m with Torchwood’- trying to be heard above the din of the band. The bouncer pinning him down had just laughed and pulled his arm behind his back with more force than before. “It was too loud. They couldn’t hear me.”

Jack gripped hold of the steering wheel tightly before asking the next question, hoping that he might pry the truth out of Ianto. He was holding back on something and experience told Jack that it wasn’t just because he was angry with him.

“What about showing your ID?” Jack found that flashing his Torchwood ID usually did the trick in awkward situations. 

“Not so easy with my arm twisted behind me, or indeed with my hands cuffed when I got thrown into the back of a squad car.” 

The heavy sarcasm was enough to make Jack wince.

“Oh.”

“‘Oh?’ That’s all you have to say?” Ianto shifted around in his seat to glare at Jack. “You sent me in there - even when I expressed reservations about the wisdom of your orders. Then, as a result of trying to protect a member of the public who I thought was being attacked, I get assaulted and arrested! And all you can say is ‘oh’-”

“What? Someone was attacked? There’s another weevil back there?” exclaimed Jack, quickly working out the fastest route back to the club and wondering if he could manage a U-turn without hitting the No.6 bendy-bus that was heading towards them in the other lane. 

“No!!” Ianto clung on tightly to the edge of Jack’s seat as the SUV swung out in a wide arc.

“What was it then?” Jack demanded impatiently, swerving back into the lane he’d originally been in and then slamming on the brakes as the lights turned red. He considered it probably wasn’t a good idea to flaunt traffic regulations on a night when the police seemed extra keen on locking up Torchwood personnel. He turned to glare at Ianto. “Come on, Ianto, explain yourself- what the hell possessed you to pull out your gun in the middle of a crowded club?

“There was a scream,” Ianto admitted quietly as he focused on the traffic lights, willing them to change to green so that Jack would have to return his attention to the road. 

“A scream?” 

“Yes, well… I thought it was a scream.” 

“And?” Jack was torn between demanding a full report and giving Ianto the time to get the facts out in his own time. A beeping horn alerted him to the fact that the lights had changed colour and, resisting the urge to floor the accelerator, he drove off slowly. That way he could keep an eye on Ianto who was fiddling awkwardly with his seatbelt, looking as if he wanted to escape from the passenger seat. 

“It was the vocalist … skinny kid, barely out of school… sounded like his vocal cords were being torn out of his throat.”

Ianto shrugged and was then painfully aware of the increased blood flow to his face; he could feel the heat as the flush of embarrassment spread across his cheeks and over his ears. Even after he’d been thrown to the ground, the screaming had continued, and it was only as he was dragged out of the bar that he’d caught sight of the kid leaping around on stage, so out of his head that he was oblivious to the drama on the dance floor. 

Jack tried hard to suppress a laugh and failed. The chuckle escaped, even though he was biting his lip, and then he guffawed loudly, shaking his head as he clutched the steering wheel and wrenched it quickly to the right to avoid going up on the kerb.

“I’m sorry – but you have to admit it – it’s funny.” 

A sidelong glance revealed that Ianto wasn’t in the least amused. Even though Jack couldn’t see Ianto’s face, as he’d once more turned to look out of the side window, the streetlights allowed him to see that the tips of his ears had turned a delicate shade of pink, which he thought was adorable, but had the good sense not to say so out loud.

“Nope, not even a little bit.” 

Ianto bashed his forehead against the reinforced glass and contemplated just how much it would take to knock himself out. The thought of losing consciousness appealed to him as being preferable to the prospect of facing yet another onslaught of ridicule for what had been a genuine mistake. He was sure Jack’s reactions would have been exactly the same in the circumstances. Although he’d have probably ended up shooting someone, perhaps that bouncer, thought Ianto vindictively. 

“One thing puzzles me,” said Jack, curiously, as he reached out a hand to tap Ianto on the knee to make sure he had his attention. “Why didn’t the cops let you go once you got to the station? Why insist on calling me in?” 

“Oooh, let’s think – could it be because the local Heddlu despise Torchwood with a vengeance?” Ianto offered, as if it was something entirely novel to Jack. Then he sighed before broaching a subject he’d rather have avoided. “Gwen’s mate – Andy – told me they’re operating under strict procedural rules, everything by the book, until they get permanent replacements for the men they lost earlier this year. Something to do with internal enquiries and interim management.” 

Ianto hoped he didn’t have to spell it out to Jack that there were elements of the police force in Cardiff that held Torchwood directly responsible for the deaths of their most senior and respected officers. To say that relationships had been strained between Torchwood and the police since Jack’s brother, Gray, had unleashed his campaign of terror, would be like saying that there was friendly rivalry between Welsh and English rugby fans. Although Ianto had promised not to keep secrets from Jack, he had no qualms about keeping Jack in the dark about some of the less than pleasant encounters he’d had with some of Cardiff’s finest in the weeks following Gray’s quest for revenge.

Jack went quiet as he considered Ianto’s observations as well as what he’d left unsaid. He realised it was going to take a while to re-establish good working relationships with the Cardiff police, but co-operation between Torchwood and the emergency services was essential to the containment of any threat that came through the Rift. He wondered if there was any chance of getting Gwen to work on her police liaison role once more. His distracted thoughts were interrupted by Ianto coughing to get his attention.

“You can drop me off over there, at the bus stop. I’ll cut through the alleyway to my street.” 

Ianto was pointing at a bus shelter in a layby. He’d had enough for one night and the adrenaline that had earlier fuelled his anger was waning, leaving him tired and despondent. It hadn’t been the sort of ‘weevil-hunting’ evening he’d been anticipating. He really shouldn’t trust that grin, he’d been mesmerised by the unnaturally white teeth. 

“I’m not taking you home and if I was, I’d take you to the door – what do you take me for?” Jack sighed, knowing he’d screwed up badly if Ianto was asking to be dropped off at the roadside rather than spend a moment longer in his company. “We’re going back to the Hub.”

“Why? You’re not expecting me to write up a report on this now are you?” Ianto stared at Jack in disbelief; he wasn’t looking forward to producing a formal record of the evening’s events and had been hoping that Jack’s customary relaxed attitude to paperwork would let him off the hook for the time being. “Can’t it wait until the morning?”

“No, of course that can wait. However, you do need to have someone see to those cuts– seriously, Ianto, they could get infected.” Jack frowned as he caught another glimpse of the nasty looking grazes revealed by headlights from passing traffic. 

“I’ve got antiseptic wipes and ointment at home. I’ll clean them up there. No way am I facing Owen looking like this.” Ianto looked down at his stained clothes, noting with dismay that the ripped knees in his trousers were beyond mending.

“I was going to send him home and look after you myself, if you’d let me. I owe you that much at least. Please?” Jack knew he was halfway to begging, but he wanted to do something to make his peace with Ianto before the night was through. 

“Well, as it happens, I do recall putting in a request for a private room and grapes…” Ianto pouted as he caught Jack’s eye. He could see that he was trying to make amends and if he was honest with himself, he’d rather make up with Jack than spend the night alone. His experiences at the club and the police station had left a nasty taste in his mouth. He needed something to take his mind off them – and Jack Harkness was the best distraction he’d ever known.

“Compromise? My room – to yourself if you don’t want my company.”

Jack quickly reached out to take hold of Ianto’s hand and was gratified to find his grip returned. He knew full well that Ianto’s dignity took a lot longer to heal once wounded than any physical injuries he sustained and, from what he could tell, it had taken a hell of a battering. Jack took a risk and lifted Ianto's hand to his lips to press a kiss to the bruised knuckles.  
“What about the grapes?”

“Whatever you want.” Jack smiled, knowing he’d been forgiven, yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to everyone who gets this far.
> 
> Let's hope that 2018 doesn't try to outdo 2017! 
> 
> A quiet, peaceful, healthy and safe year would suit me just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Ianto had insisted that Jack go and buy the grapes as they approached the Tourist Office entrance. When Jack asked if there was anything else he could get, he took advantage of the rarity of the offer and gave him a list of other things he could pick up from Tesco’s whilst he was there, including something for breakfast- cold pizza and coffee wasn’t the healthiest way to start the day. Not only had Ianto been reluctant to waste an opportunity to get Jack to go shopping for him, he also keen on buying time to get showered quickly and alone. The last thing he had needed was for Jack to offer to ‘scrub his back’.

It was almost half an hour later before Jack eventually returned to the Hub. He dumped the full-to-bursting carrier bag of groceries on the floor in the kitchenette, and as he had no idea where most of the items went, he starting to shove them all into the fridge. 

Hearing the commotion, Owen had dashed up from the autopsy bay and was surprised to see Jack actually unloading a bag of shopping.

“OK, that does it. Ianto sneaks in quieter than usual and just disappears into your office without a bloody word. Then you come in having done the fucking shopping.” Owen glared at Jack, who was looking decidedly guilty. “What the fuck have you done now?”

“None of your damn business… but if you must know I’m attempting to put it right.”

“With grapes?” Owen had to look twice, to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. “Don’t tell me – I really don’t want to know.”

“Trust me, you don’t. Now, why don’t you go home, or go bother Tosh? I take it the latest inmate has settled down now?”

Jack tried to distract Owen by enquiring about the weevil he had dropped off earlier that evening. 

“Weevil Anastasia is sleeping off her trauma and will be ready to rip your throat out in the morning. Why couldn’t you deal with her anyway?”

“Unfinished business to deal with, like I said– and I had to pick up Ianto.”

“You didn’t forget to bring him back with you, did you?” Owen scrunched his face up, desperately trying to figure out what the hell had been going on. “Fucking hell Harkness, what’s your problem? You brought home a weevil and left your boyfriend out on the street? No wonder he’s not talking to you – I’m surprised he bothered waiting for you at all, bloody stupid idiot –”

“It would really help me if you went home now,” grumbled Jack, holding back from telling Owen about Ianto having been arrested. Until he knew the full details, he wasn’t going to tell the rest of the team.

“Good luck mate, you’re going to need it.” Owen smirked. He’d seen Ianto when he was pissed off with Jack and he’d been taken aback at how scary the man could be when riled. “I’ll come in late tomorrow then, yeah?”

“Take the whole morning off if you like, just go now!”

Jack didn’t wait to see Owen leave the Hub, he just grabbed the two cartons of grapes and took the stairs to his office two at a time. Once there, he flung his coat on the sofa and then slid down the ladder into his quarters, only to be disappointed to discover Ianto already rubbing his hair dry. 

His suspicions were roused immediately – Ianto never showered that quickly, even when he wasn’t with him, and he never wrapped himself up in that many towels. He was hiding something and the only thing that Jack could think of was that he’d been injured in some way and was hiding the evidence. 

“Showered already?” Jack tossed the grapes down on the bed and leant on the ladder, making sure that Ianto couldn’t make a bolt for it. “Either you’re really keen to get into bed – not that I’m complaining - or there’s something you don’t want me to see. Come on, ’fess up before I have to rip those towels off you and find out for myself.”

“Perhaps I just wanted to… to get rid of the stink of stale beer?” suggested Ianto, hesitantly. 

“All you had to do was get undressed for that.” Jack pointed at the heap of discarded clothing that looked as if it had been kicked to one side. He took one step towards Ianto and reached out as if to grab hold of the towel that Ianto had gripped hold of even more tightly. “Come on – don’t make me do it.”

Ianto realised that using the Captain’s shower had been a mistake as he was effectively trapped. He’d been hoping to get under the sheets before Jack got back, maybe even feigning sleep. 

“Ianto…?” Jack advanced closer still, his brow furrowed as he noted the way Ianto swallowed hard and looked almost afraid.

“It’s nothing really-” Ianto shrugged, knowing he’d been caught out.

“Let me be the judge of that – off with those towels. Now.” Jack’s voice was deadly serious now. His imagination was filling in the gaps for him and it was very creative. 

Reluctantly, Ianto removed the towel that he’d draped around his shoulders, revealing several bruises developing across his shoulders and on his chest from where he’d been shoved to the ground in the club.

“Turn around.”

As Ianto slowly turned in the small space, the light filtering down from the office above showed up a dark ring of red marks on his right arm and also around his wrists from where he’d been restrained – with more force than necessary, Jack thought grimly. Someone would answer for this.

“Now drop the other one.” 

“What?” exclaimed Ianto. “I’m really not in the mood for this game-”

“Indulge me, it’s not like you’re going to keep that on is it?”

Jack held his breath as Ianto reluctantly untucked the towel he’d wrapped around his hips. If there was any damage below the waist, Jack swore he wouldn’t be giving a damn about fostering good relationships with anyone at the police station for a very long time.

Ianto dropped the towel to the floor, and Jack let out a sigh of relief as there were no apparent injuries visible on his lower back, buttocks or thighs.

“Turn around and face me again.”

“This is getting a bit kinky – even for you.” 

“Bear with me – or should I say ‘bare’ for me?” asked Jack with a grin. He had relaxed, feeling reassured that there was nothing to see beyond the signs of rough handling when Ianto had been apprehended and then arrested. 

“Please- leave the puns to me.” Ianto rolled his eyes and turned to face Jack. He licked his lips slowly, hoping to keep Jack’s eyes fixed on his face.

He failed.

“What the hell happened there?” Jack pointed at Ianto’s legs. There was dark bruising on the tops of Ianto’s thighs and on his shins. His knees also looked slightly swollen and grazed. Jack’s imagination had shot into hyperdrive and he had difficulty keeping his voice steady. Scenarios he never wanted to imagine were racing through his head.

“I slipped!” asserted Ianto quickly, picking up exactly what Jack was thinking. “I slipped on some steps. Couldn’t break my fall… not with my hands cuffed.” 

_The moment his ankle had made contact with that heavy boot he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep his balance. It was only by landing heavily onto his legs that he’d managed to save his head from hitting the concrete steps._

“And nobody grabbed hold of you to keep you from hurting yourself?” Jack’s voice was low and he spoke slowly, making sure that Ianto understood exactly what he was asking. He bitterly regretted having laughed at Ianto earlier and not actually asking him if he was alright. He had just assumed that it was only his lover’s dignity that had taken a bruising.

“Happened too fast I s’pose.” Ianto shrugged slightly, stooping down to pick up the towel. Wrapping it back around him, as he tried to avoid making eye contact with Jack. 

_The cruel laughter still rang in his ears. They’d found it hilarious that the pain had made his eyes water and that the tears were running down his cheeks for all to see. One of them had called him ‘the Captain’s bitch’, with some derogatory remarks about being used to being on his knees. Another had spat on him as he’d been dragged back to his feet._

“Where exactly were these steps?” demanded Jack, his eyes narrowed, his chin jutted forward and his arms were folded across his chest. He could tell by Ianto’s evasiveness that the full truth was likely to make him furious, and therefore he was likely to try to keep it from him. But the location where he’d ‘fallen over’ would tell Jack all he needed to know.

“The police station,” whispered Ianto. He couldn’t help wincing as he pictured the steps clearly in his mind’s eye – cold, grey concrete, with rough edges where the surface had been chipped away over time exposing the strips of steel that were embedded within. They were hard and unforgiving. Like the men who’d arrested him.

Jack saw the way that Ianto shuddered and knew better than to ask for any more details, he just reached out and enfolded Ianto in his arms, hugging him close. There would be no way it could be proved, but he bet those bastards had deliberately tripped Ianto with every intention of hurting him. There was no question in his mind now, he would make someone pay for this. What had happened to those senior police officers had been tragic, but Ianto wasn’t the person responsible for that, he was.

“I’m sorry.” Jack pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Ianto’s head. He was sorry, sorry that the ripples radiating out from his actions as a child were still catching up with people he cared for and hurting them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack helps Ianto unwind.
> 
> Definitely an adult chapter - with scenes of intimacy that some may wish to skip. No plot will be missed if this chapter is skipped, just some gratuitous grape bothering.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey - did you remember the grapes?” Ianto whispered into Jack’s ear, as he snaked his arms around the man’s waist. 

“Yeah –” Jack smiled into Ianto’s damp hair, recognising one of his lover’s standard ploys to lift him out of his sombre moods. “I wasn’t sure which ones to get so I got some of those huge green ones and those little red ones as well. They’re on the bed.”

“Perfect. Now what was that you said about helping me clean up these cuts?”

“Sit down – I’ll fetch the first aid kit from the bathroom.”

Even though it had been a long time since Jack had needed to use a first aid kit for himself, he’d taken to keeping one, well stocked, in his own private bathroom for treating any minor injuries that Ianto suffered. The man was often too bloody stubborn to admit he needed medical attention unless he was on the point of collapse and, even then, Jack was sure if he asked him for coffee he’d probably drag himself to the coffee machine first and then pass out. This way Jack could treat any cuts and abrasions in privacy with the minimum of resistance. He was proud of the fact that he could actually get Ianto to accept that he needed looking after occasionally. Now was one of those times.

Ianto sat down on the bed and opened the bag of green grapes. His mouth was dry – due to nerves he imagined, so he plucked one of the glossy green grapes and slowly slid it between his teeth, biting down slowly to release the cool, sweet juice. 

Listening to Jack bustling around in the bathroom, Ianto ruefully wondered what had happened to spoil their evening. It had all gone to ruin the moment he’d stepped foot in that damn club. He’d had a bad feeling about that place. He was also worried about the open animosity displayed by the police force towards Torchwood – with the exception of Andy Davidson, who’d thankfully taken care of the custody admin. It was something he could foresee putting lives in danger if it wasn’t remedied sooner rather than later. However, the look on Jack’s face put paid to any speedy reconciliation on that front. He wondered if it would have been better if he’d insisted on going back to his own place after all.

“Stop brooding- I’d have found out sooner or later. Did you really think you could hide those legs from me until the bruises faded?” Jack leered as he stepped over a heap of clothing to get closer to Ianto. He frowned as he noted the state of what had been one of his favourite suits. “Can any of that be salvaged or is it completely ruined?”

“Trousers are torn – which makes the jacket and waistcoat redundant, although I could keep the waistcoat and wear it with jeans.” Ianto sighed, also regretting the demise of the Armani pinstripe. “I can probably get the stains out of the shirt.”

“Throw them all out and buy replacements, and give me the bill.”

“You don’t need to do that-”

“Yes, I do. Don’t argue and will you please stop doing obscene things with those grapes or I’ll never get around to using this first aid kit.” 

Ianto deliberately sucked a grape into his mouth whole and then bit into it hard enough to let juice trickle down his chin. Jack dipped his head forward to capture the stray drips with his tongue, before sharing the taste with Ianto.

“I swear you’re worse than me and the others think butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.” 

“They’re convinced you corrupted me,” Ianto smirked.

“Don’t I know it,” growled Jack, shaking his head regretfully as he fought to resist the wicked twinkle in Ianto’s eyes. “Right then, I’ll clean those cuts first and then get some witch hazel on the bruising.”

Jack carefully wiped clean each small cut and graze that littered Ianto’s face, making sure there were no slivers of glass trapped beneath the surface. Then he smoothed on antiseptic cream. After that he dabbed cotton wool balls, soaked in witch hazel, on each set of bruising on Ianto’s fair skin, silently fuming at the circumstances that had caused them in the first place. 

Whilst focusing on Ianto’s face, he also made the most of the opportunity to look Ianto in the eye and seek out what he’d not said out loud. Under Jack’s unwavering gaze, the mask slowly slipped away to reveal a more soulful expression, one that admitted to feelings of fear and abandonment. Without thinking, Ianto had chewed on a thumb nail while Jack had been treating a graze on his forehead and in that fleeting moment Jack caught sight of a young man that needed comfort far more than he was prepared to admit.

In response to the request that Ianto wouldn’t make, Jack set aside the first aid kit and kneeling at the side of the bed, he cupped Ianto’s face in his hands and kissed him, slowly at first, waiting for his lips to part in invitation and then Jack deepened the kiss, plundering Ianto’s mouth with his tongue.

Ianto was still naked from his shower, the towel at his waist falling open as Jack leaned forward between his legs. It didn’t matter to Jack that he was still dressed in shirt and trousers; he was only concerned with tending to Ianto. Kissing his way down the soft hair of his lover’s chest, Jack followed the fuzzy trail down his abdomen and lower, licking and nibbling as he worked his way down until he was nuzzling the denser hair about Ianto’s cock, which was responding to the attention Jack was giving it. 

A soft sigh, as Ianto exhaled, was all the encouragement Jack needed, so he gently tipped his lover back onto the mattress and went down on him before he had chance to protest. He felt Ianto’s hands squeezing his shoulders, holding him in place as he tried in vain to thrust into Jack’s mouth, lacking much in the way of leverage. Jack took charge, eliciting moans of pleasure from Ianto as he gradually increased the intensity of his attentions. 

Then, taking advantage of the way Ianto’s legs fell apart, he embarked on a two-pronged assault, sucking two of his own fingers in his mouth, alongside Ianto’s cock, he liberally coated them with saliva. As Jack eased his fingers past the tight ring of muscle, he heard Ianto groan and then he felt the muscles clench tight before slowly relaxing, letting him push in slowly, teasing and tormenting his lover as he thrust in and out in a steady rhythm, brushing that most sensitive spot repeatedly. 

Jack was relentless in his sensual assault and kept teasing until he felt Ianto uncontrollably bucking up off the mattress. That’s when he took him back into his warm mouth, deeper down the back of his throat, taking control once more and used his tongue in ways that he knew Ianto couldn’t withstand for long. 

Taking care not to press on any of the bruises, Jack held Ianto down firmly on the bed as he came, shuddering and trembling, the release letting loose all the pent-up tension, fear and anger. Jack smiled to himself as he heard Ianto shout out his name, along with a string of expletives that only he ever got to hear. 

Jack sat back on his heels, content in the knowledge that he’d managed to make sure Ianto would get at least a few hours untroubled sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on, after carefully tucking a soft blanket around Ianto’s bare shoulders, Jack quietly climbed up the ladder back into his office. He had some research to do before Ianto woke up; he needed the names of the men who’d dared to hurt a member of his team. Although it would be foolish to act in haste, Jack had all the time in the world and then some.


	5. Chapter 5

A week later and, although Ianto’s bruises had faded, Owen made the most of any opportunity to ensure the incident stayed fresh in everyone’s minds. That was everyone except Jack, who had given him a stony-faced glare the first time he’d brought up the subject. Owen just assumed that was because he was still in the dog house for having let Ianto get arrested in the first place and made sure he wasn’t in earshot the next time he mentioned ‘trigger-happy teaboys’.

Despite having become a more amenable colleague since his death, Owen still delighted in winding up his workmates, especially Ianto. He took it as a challenge and justified it on the grounds that he needed some form of entertainment to compensate for an indeterminate future devoid of booze, sex and food. Ianto was an ideal target, even more so now that he was back to wearing his trademark, impractical suits. Lying in wait on the sofa, as Ianto returned from delivering coffee to Jack’s office, Owen was about to launch into yet another attack when Tosh intercepted him by calling for his attention.

“Owen, leave Ianto alone for a moment, there’s something here from the hospital that might be of interest.”

“What’s that then, Tosh? What could possibly be more interesting than teasing Ianto about getting thrown into a cell for nearly shooting a bloke because he screamed like a girl?”

“If you’d have heard him I bet you’d have shot first and asked questions later.” Ianto slammed the empty tray down on the counter and then pouring a large cup of steaming hot, aromatic coffee, he inhaled deeply before turning to the doctor. “Coffee, Owen? Oops no, you can’t hold your liquor any more without it going straight through you … sorry.”

“Bastard – that’s discriminatory!”

“Torchwood doesn’t do employee rights – trust me.” Ianto smiled wryly as he recalled late night discussions concerning what did and did not constitute sexual harassment, all of which seemed to end up with him in some state of undress and Jack grinning smugly. Taking another sip of his coffee, he licked his lips slowly before smiling as he decided it was his turn to push Owen’s buttons for a change. “Are there unions for un-dead employees? Or is more politically correct to refer to your status as ‘life-challenged’?”

“That’s ripe coming from the bloke who’s shagging a body that’s come back from the dead more times than I’ve done autopsies!”

“At least he can still get it -”

Before Ianto said something that would have inevitably led to an escalation of animosities, Tosh intercepted Owen as he leapt up from the sofa by thrusting a stack of print-outs into his chest. In order to keep the paperwork from falling to the ground, Owen was forced to unclench his fists to take hold of it. However, he gave Ianto a glare that promised continued hostilities once he’d dealt with Tosh’s request. Ianto just smirked back at him, safe in the knowledge that he was more than capable of holding his own against Owen’s onslaught of sarcasm.

“Eight cases of severe anaphylactic shock in the last twenty-four hours,” stated Tosh. 

“Happens all the bloody time these days – nut allergies,” scoffed Owen, dismissively. “No matter how many epi-pens the NHS doles out, there’s always someone stupid enough not to watch what they eat. It’s bugger all to do with us – not a case for Torchwood.” 

“He’s got a point, Tosh, my sister was moaning about not being able to have kids’ birthday parties any more because of the risk of food allergies.” Ianto shrugged as he felt slightly uncomfortable siding with Owen against Tosh. “She said all it would take would be a stray smear of peanut butter and she’d lose her childminder’s licence.”

“What on earth would possess anyone to take in other people’s larvae?” Owen looked disgusted at the mere thought.

“Milk of human kindness, Owen. That would be one of the rare bodily fluids you’ve had less experience with!” snorted Ianto. Then thinking about the estate his sister lived, on he added: “That and the extra cash comes in handy.” 

Ianto bit his lip gently as he recalled what had happened when he’d once offered to help out financially; his hope on seeing the letter on his door mat, with his sister’s handwriting on the envelope, dashed as he found the enclosed card held the torn fragments of the cheque he’d sent her. 

“It’s not nut allergies,” Tosh interjected, with that look that indicated she was on to something. She’d been content to let Ianto and Owen stray off topic briefly, as it seemed to have distracted them from their ongoing argument. “None of those suffering have any history of allergies, including nut or shellfish. The reason this was flagged up on my system is that the hospital has appealed for outside assistance in detecting the cause - three of the eight are now critical, requiring intubation and admission to ICU.”

“Alright, Tosh. You win. I’m bored anyway.” Owen started leafing through the pages of printouts. “What’ve we got?”

“Whatever it is, the symptoms are similar enough that the doctors at the hospital suspect a common cause. That and the fact that all eight were brought in within a two-hour time period, suggesting exposure to the same causative agent.”

“So they think it was the same allergen that all of them reacted to?” Owen frowned, leafing through the print outs quickly. “If that’s the case I think we can rule out anything ingested. A homeless bloke is unlikely to have the same dietary intake as a teenage girl. Skin contact also unlikely, which leaves airborne allergens.”

“Perhaps a chemical released into the air?” suggested Ianto walking across to join Owen on the sofa.

“If that was the case there would be probably be more than eight people affected.” Tosh countered. “What’s more, according to the information here, they were all in different places throughout the city.”

“Could it be a delayed reaction from a common exposure?” Ianto put his question directly to Owen. “That would account for the number of cases and the distribution of victims.”

“OK, that’s feasible… I suppose.” Owen sighed, sounding far from convinced. “Airborne allergens could include mould spores if it was indoors, or pollen if it happened outdoors-”

“It’s the wrong time of year for pollen,” Ianto shook his head. “Not exactly the weather for pollen either.”

“If you ask me, it’s never the weather for pollen in Cardiff,” Owen pointed out, sarcastically. “But, if you’re talking damp, mouldy buildings, with peeling wallpaper and air full of spores, then the city’s full of them- so that doesn’t help either.”

“What made you think it’s something Rift-related?” Ianto looked over at Tosh quizzically, wondering if she’d just set them this puzzle as a distraction. He wouldn’t put it past her to throw them a red herring just to keep them quiet, so she could work on something genuinely important. 

“The hospital sent off a request for urgent assistance in isolating the allergen to the Health Protection Agency… with an authorisation to alert UNIT if anything showed up under their remit.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ianto swore under his breath and rolled his eyes, as the implications sunk in. He had his own reasons for not wanting UNIT in Cardiff and knew just how Jack would react if he heard about this.

“What the hell’s got into them? Are they going to get hysterical whenever anything out of the ordinary crops up?” Owen’s voice shook with outrage, but before he could continue his diatribe against the medical services of Cardiff he was stopped in his tracks by a well aimed glare from Tosh.

“You can’t blame them, Owen. Last year they had to deal with weevils and an outbreak of bubonic plague. This year there was the patient whose last breath filled the ward with a swarm of flying alien insects, then there was that Hoix in the basement and … oh yes... you had a fight with the Grim Reaper who took out a dozen patients before he could be stopped.”

“The recollections of all having been erased with liberal doses of retcon – fuck knows how Ianto tracked them all down, but he did. Good job, mate.”

“Thanks, Owen.” 

“Of course!” Tosh declared triumphantly. “The after effects of retcon do incur a certain level of paranoia and seeing as a large percentage of the hospital employees have now been exposed to it, it’s hardly surprising that they’re alarmed when more than one person goes down with anything in the least bit unusual.” 

Tosh was gratified to see that both Ianto and Owen looked as if her point was getting through. They all remembered just how bad the effects of Suzie’s extravagant use of retcon had been.

“Why UNIT and not us?” Ianto seemed almost affronted that the local services hadn’t asked for their assistance.

“That’s something for Jack to deal with,” replied Tosh, although she had also wondered why the hospital had asked for UNIT to be informed, but not Torchwood. “Do you think we should tell him?”

“Damned if we do and damned if we don’t.” Ianto grimaced as he pictured Jack’s outrage. “Maybe let it go for now and hope it’s all totally unrelated to aliens or the Rift.”

“What have they given as their reason for asking HPA for assistance?” asked Owen.

“They’ve been unable to establish the cause and consequently want to take precautions in case of a potentially city-wide biohazard. Blood samples have been sent off to Porton Down, by courier, for DNA profiling. They’re hoping the scientists there can identify the specific antigens that are responsible.”

“Biohazard? Or alien life form?” prompted Ianto. 

“Could be non-organic for that matter.” Owen shrugged. “In which case DNA sampling is going to be a waste of time.”

“Either way, it could take time – pity they haven’t called us in, we’ve got equipment that would’ve speeded the process up.”

“Can we hack into their findings?” Owen asked.

“I hope that was a rhetorical question.” Tosh glowered at Owen. She thought he’d have known her well enough by now to know better. “I’m onto it already.”

“Right then, next thing is to check out the victims.” Owen shuffled the sheets of paper and handed several to Ianto. “Here, you can take those and I’ll look through the others.”

Tosh smiled to herself as the two men sat next to each other on the scruffy sofa and started leafing through the details she could have easily checked through without their assistance. It was in the lulls between periods of rift activity that they all got on each other’s nerves, she was just pleased that Gwen was busily occupied with a project of Jack’s, otherwise she’d have contributed to the friction. And there was something about this that bothered her; she’d been working with Jack long enough not to trust in coincidences. There was definitely something odd about this spate of collapses and if they could work out the cause now, it could save lives later on.


	6. Chapter 6

“OK, I’ve got students, homeless bloke and a barmaid…” Owen threw his hands up in the air. “I’ve got it! There’s something in the beer!” 

“Don’t be so sure about that, Owen,” Ianto smiled slightly. “I’ve got two sixteen-year-old schoolgirls here -”

“Doesn’t mean they don’t drink!”

“Doubt if they’d have the same tastes as a rough sleeper.”

“What’s all this about sleeping with a bit of rough?” Jack called out from the walkway outside his office. He grinned, noting the look of exasperation on Ianto’s face as a result of his deliberately misconstruing the conversation. 

Seeing his team busy working on something, Jack quickly joined them. He sat on the arm of the sofa next to Ianto, deliberately ruffling the other man’s hair just to get the fierce glare in response. 

“What’s going on – plotting without me?”

“Tosh thinks there’s some significance in a cluster of anaphylactic shock cases.” Ianto brushed a hand across the top of his head to undo the damage done by Jack and then waved the sheaf of papers in the air.

“Eight cases within the space of two hours, three critical. The hospital is consulting HPA –” Tosh bit her tongue as Ianto glared at her, willing her not to mention UNIT. “And if there’s any chance at all that it’s an alien pathogen triggering this-”

“Do you still have contacts at Porton Down, Tosh?”

“Yes – I’m been liaising with them on the ongoing research into the weevil ’flu. But that’s had to take a back seat for now since the whole swine ‘flu pandemic. If it wasn’t for the fact that it originated in Mexico, we’d have been blamed for that as well.”

“Get onto them, Tosh.” Jack managed a half smile in encouragement. Memories of the hybridised weevil ’flu virus that had nearly killed Ianto had him worried. If this was something similar that had been unleashed, he didn’t dare think who could be responsible.

“We need to know what these victims have in common – where might they have all been.” Jack reiterated what Ianto and Owen had already decided, but neither of them bothered telling him they were already onto it. “Any clues?”

“Nothing seems to tie them together.” Tosh referred to her screen to read out the list. “Four adult males, two adult females and two adolescent females. Scattered across the city. No obvious links between any of them, apart from the fact that the two girls attend the same school and two of the victims are at the university.”

“Let’s start with the school girls. If they’re friends, they’re likely to have been to the same places together – should narrow down the variables.” 

“Convent school girls,” Ianto placed the emphasis on the first word. “Year 11, both collapsed at school –”

“Mass hysteria?” proffered Jack, deliberately playing devil’s advocate. “School girls are renowned for winding each other up.” 

“Two doesn’t exactly qualify as a mass of people.” Ianto rolled his eyes. “Anyway, according to these triage reports they were in different classes, in separate buildings at the time of their collapse, one girl fell ill about fifteen minutes before the other one apparently. The school nurse was treating one and had called for an ambulance just as the second girl passed out. She’d used an epipen on both of them – according to the paramedics she probably saved their lives.”

“OK, that does sound like more than a coincidence.” Jack's brow furrowed. This was more serious than he’d thought. “What about the students then?”

Owen pulled out two sheets of paper, scanning to look for similarities. 

“One female, studying music, collapsed in her practice room, was found by another student who heard her stop playing and thought she was finished. The other is a young lad, just started at the medical school, keeled over in a lecture. To start with they thought he’d got squeamish, flushed complexion and fainting. It was the swelling around his throat that gave it away – luckily for him the lecturer got to him before the other students. From what I can see here, the only thing they seemed to have in common was high blood alcohol levels still in their veins from the night before. Not a rare condition for the student population of Cardiff, more like a prerequisite.”

“Ianto?” Jack reached a hand out to rest on Ianto’s shoulder, desperate for some sort of lead. If they could just pinpoint one part of the city, they’d have something to investigate.

“The shopkeeper, owns one of those open-all-hours groceries in Roath. He collapsed at the cash and carry, and was spotted on the CCTV. And then there’s the taxi driver, had a seizure in his cab after picking up a fare outside Cardiff Central station, crashed into the traffic lights. Police at the scene called an ambulance, he’s now in ICU.”

“That leaves two – where were they when they collapsed?”

“Homeless guy found sheltering in the doorway of a kebab shop on Albany Road, found by a copper on the beat. By the time the ambulance arrived he was in a critical condition, probably not in the best of health to start with.” Owen sighed and shook his head, wondering if the poor bloke had been hanging around for handouts or discarded doner kebabs. “That leaves a young woman in her twenties, taken ill at work over in the Gourmet Burger Kitchen, just around the corner from here. She needed two shots of adrenaline and is yet to recover consciousness.” 

“Not seeing a pattern here at all …” Jack rubbed his face, perplexed as to how there could be any connection between these eight individuals. 

Owen picked up the pieces of paper that Ianto had put on the floor, an address having caught his eye.

“Hang on – the shopkeeper, Majid Hussein. His shop’s on Albany Road, not far from where the homeless guy was found and they’re two of the worst affected.”

“Albany Road?” Jack scowled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ianto looked far from happy.

“Owen – I need you to get to the hospital and find out firsthand what’s going on there. Do whatever you have to, but I want to know what those eight people have in common. There’s got to be something.”

“You coming with me?” Owen gathered up all of the details and turned to look at Jack who was still sitting on the edge of the sofa next to Ianto.

“Nope – take Tosh with you. I’m taking a drive up to Albany Road… Ianto, you’re with me.” 

“Can’t you take Gwen with you instead?” Ianto asked reluctantly, his heart sinking at the prospect of going anywhere near the scene of his recent humiliation.

“What?” Jack was confused; he never thought he’d hear Ianto suggest he take Gwen with him in his place. “No – she’s busy.” 

“But this is more Gwen’s speciality. It’s basically police work – can’t you get her to do it?”

“No, she’s working on something for me.” Jack gave Ianto a glare that made it clear he had no intention of changing his mind. As for Gwen’s special project, he made her swear not to breathe a word of it to anyone else on the team – especially not to Ianto.

“Jack?”

“Trust me, Ianto.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tosh tucked her tablet into her bag and turned to face Owen as he pulled into a visiting consultant’s parking space.

“So, do you know what Gwen’s special project is?” 

“Nope. More to the point, neither does Ianto and that’s really pissing him off.” 

Owen grinned as he selected an authentic looking parking permit to place in the windscreen of his car. He was feeling generous and didn’t want to create Ianto extra work dealing with parking fines incurred just because he was too lazy.

“How do you know that?” Tosh demanded, feeling put out at the thought that Ianto hadn’t confided in her first. “What has he said to you?”

“He didn’t need to say a word – I’ve seen that look on his face.” 

What Owen did not share with Tosh was the fact that his persistent teasing of Ianto was, in no small part, deliberately planned to distract him from worrying over Jack’s tête-à-têtes with Gwen.

“What? When?” 

Tosh had to walk fast to keep up with Owen’s longer strides, but she was sure he knew more than he was letting on. She was going to get answers and she was determined to get them before they reached the front entrance to the hospital

“Last two mornings, long before you got in.” 

Owen was amused at the way Tosh shook her head, but then again he always used to be the last one in. Since he’d dispensed with the need for sleep, he had taken to looking after the night shifts when the rift was more active and needed monitoring. Sitting quietly in the early hours of the day, unnoticed, he’d become more aware of what went on in the Hub than he’d ever been when he was still alive. 

“Oh yeah, gotta be there early before he gets that mask on his face and stick up his arse.” Owen pulled a poker face and straightened his shoulders in a cruel impersonation of Ianto. “You see Jack’s been having regular meetings with Gwen, in his office. Behind closed doors. This morning he actually shut the door on Ianto after asking for coffee for him and her royal Cooper-ness.”

“What?” Tosh stopped in her tracks, picturing the scene and wanting to turn around, find Jack and throw something at him. No wonder Ianto had been in such a snarky mood with Owen. “But … has Jack got any idea what that looks like to the rest of us? To Ianto?”

“Captain Bleeding Oblivious? ’Course not – although the watered-down coffee might eventually percolate through to his conscience.” 

Owen was confident that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, although he couldn’t imagine what Jack could be working on that he’d want to exclude Ianto from quite so blatantly. Unless there was something amiss with Ianto himself. Owen shook his head, not wanting to contemplate that option, because if there was something wrong with Ianto, and Jack hadn’t asked for his input, then there’d be hell to pay. 

“If that doesn’t work, I’ll have words with him myself.” Tosh was envisaging a chat punctuated with a well aimed heel to the instep, or maybe a knee to the groin. “With only five of us, secrets are dangerous. They divide us. Make us vulnerable.”

Owen didn’t say a word but had the grace to look contrite as he thought back to secrets he’d shared with Gwen, and could see how badly they’d affected Tosh. Of course, Ianto was the past master at keeping secrets, both his own and Jack’s.

“As soon as we get back I’m going to ask him what the hell he’s playing at.” Tosh took a deep breath and then pointed in the direction of the main entrance to the hospital. “Meanwhile, we’ve got patients to interview, Dr Harper.”

“Yep – I was thinking we should start with the waitress.”

“Why?” Tosh scowled at Owen suspiciously. His chauvinism had apparently survived his death intact. It occurred to her that the girl was probably blonde and had legs up to her armpits.

“Because she works at the GBK. In Mermaid Quay. On our doorstep.” Owen painstakingly went over the details, as if Tosh was stupid, then frowned as he realised what she was thinking. “If there’s something in the Bay area causing this, I want to find out sooner rather than later. Can’t have you getting sick on me – who else would put up with my foul moods?”

Tosh frowned as his words sunk in and then smiled shyly before looking around to find the reception.

“We’d better get a move on then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack yawned as he pulled up onto the kerb, ignoring the double yellow lines. He wasn’t going to give Ianto the satisfaction of letting him know that he realised he’d been given diluted coffee, again. If the price to pay for avenging Ianto’s mistreatment was to be a few mornings of weak, insipid coffee he could live with it. 

“What are we looking for, Jack?” Ianto asked as he slammed the door shut. Standing, with hands on hips, he scanned the shop fronts up and down Albany Road as if expecting an ambush at any moment.

“Relax, Ianto. We’re just carrying out a quick recce – checking for traces of radiation, non-indigenous organic chemicals, rift energy, the usual.” Jack handed Ianto a scanner and raised an eyebrow as he caught the distinctly unimpressed expression on Ianto’s face. “If we split up we’ll get this done quicker. Kebab shop or convenience store? Any preference?”

“I’ll take the shop as long as you promise not to buy a kebab.” Ianto glared at Jack, who responded by putting on his best ‘who me?’ face. Shaking his head at him, in the way a doting parent would to a wayward child, Ianto smiled and pointed at Jack’s chest. “I always know when you have, you get chilli sauce on your shirt.”

Jack grinned at Ianto and turned sharply on his heel to head in the direction of McDoner’s, its red signs advertising kebabs, burgers and pizzas. Ianto shuddered as he watched Jack push the doors open as if he was a sheriff bursting into a saloon bar. 

It occurred to him that one advantage of splitting up was that he wouldn’t have to deal with the lingering odour of onions and lamb grease in the fine fabric of his suit. He also knew, from experiences good and bad, that Jack’s coat seemed to have remarkable properties when it came to repelling stains and odours. 

Ianto then frowned as he realised that the Albany Road Convenience Store was right next door to the kebab shop. That was more than a coincidence. Between the two there was an alleyway and half way down he could make out a pile of flatted cardboard boxes and folded newspapers. Probably the remnants of a feeble refuge from the elements that their homeless victim had relied upon. Ianto shivered, recalling past fears that Jack would retcon him and then dump him on the streets. It wasn’t that long ago, not really and he wondered, not for the first time, how long he’d have survived if Jack had chosen that means of punishing him for his transgressions. 

Shaking off the ghosts of what might have been, Ianto straightened his jacket and walked into the convenience store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen grumbled as he was forcibly evicted from the ward by hospital security. The staff nurse in charge hadn’t wanted him to bother any of her patients and it was only Tosh’s distractions that had allowed Owen access to the young waitress. There had been an argument about Torchwood needing to call ahead to request authorisation to interview patients and then Owen had sworn at the nurse in charge. That’s what had precipitated the calling in of security. Apparently, there were new regulations in place restricting the previously unquestioned freedom of access that Torchwood had to all departments in the local hospitals. Owen glowered as he sensed the red tape of bureaucracy being used to trip them up and prevent them from carrying out their jobs effectively. 

“What the fuck is their problem?” Owen yelled as he stormed out of the building and turned to wait for Tosh as she ran to catch up with him. 

“Jack can sort this out – can’t he?” Tosh asked angrily, feeling as irritated as Owen looked. 

There had never been an issue with the hospitals in the past. Owen could just walk into any ward, any department and gain access to medical notes, samples and patients. 

“I fucking hope so, or we’re screwed.” Owen rubbed his bandaged hand across his face and resisted the urge to scream. “I need to call him anyway. I managed to find out something before getting chucked out – it’s going to really piss off Ianto.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What have you got then, apart from a portion of chips?” Ianto rolled his eyes as he took in the sight of Jack leaning against the side of the SUV nonchalantly, a guilty look on his face as he bit into a fat, greasy chip.

“Nothing much,” Jack chewed as he spoke. “The guy opening up this morning went to ask Bob to shift his ass out of the doorway and he just started to convulse, clutching his throat as if he couldn’t breathe. Mister McDoner called for an ambulance and that was it. No sign of anything particularly odd. Bob – well that’s what they call him- spends most nights in their doorway, never a problem. I guess it’s warmer there. Chip?”

Ianto resisted the dubious temptation of the chips, even though the bar of dark chocolate he’d bought for Myfanwy was weighing heavily in his pocket and he’d not had much for breakfast. He was feeling uneasy and couldn’t put his finger on the reason. He just knew he’d feel happier once they were on their way back to the Hub.

“No thanks.” Ianto shook his head and clamped his mouth shut fast as Jack waved a chip in his direction. He wouldn’t put it past Jack to hand feed him chips in the middle of the day in the centre of Roath. 

“So, what did you find out? Manage to charm anything out of the shopkeepers other than a discounted bar of Bournville?”

“How did you know?” Ianto rested a hand on his hip annoyed at the thought that Jack had followed him into the shop secretly.

Jack pointed at the dark red wrapper that was poking out of the side of his pocket and grinned.

“It’s for Myfanwy. Anyway, Majid Hussein, the owner, was behind the counter last night. I got his son to show me the CCTV – nothing odd. Usual range of customers wandering in from the club to buy snacks and cheap booze to smuggle back in with them.” 

Ianto paused to nod in the vague direction of the club that he refused to look at directly. 

“Any that match the descriptions of the other victims?”

“There were a few underage girls that tried to buy vodka, but their fake ID didn’t wash, they were told to piss off and not come back. Anyway, Mr Hussein was here all night apart from a couple of times when he popped out front for a smoke when it was quieter. Left just after midnight.”

“Scans pick up anything?” Jack looked hopeful as he picked up another chip and raised it to his lips.

“Nothing. You?”

Jack shook his head and before he had the chance to reply his mobile began to ring.

“Owen? What? You sure? Yeah … I know… What?! Who the hell do these people think they are? As soon as I’ve finished here, I’ll go back with you. See you back at the Hub… right.”

Ianto watched as Jack’s face contorted through a range of expressions from surprise to worry and then to outrage within the space of a few minutes.

“Want to give me the abridged version?”

“The hospital won’t let Owen see any patients without relevant authorisation-”

“Since when? Torchwood doesn’t need any further authorisation – never has!”

“I know, but for some reason, things have changed. The other thing isn’t going to make you any happier.”

“What is it, Jack? Spit it out.” The nervous look on Jack’s face only made Ianto more worried than he already was.

“Before getting thrown out by security, Owen got to see the waitress.”

“The one that worked at the GBK?”

“Yeah … seems like she had a night job as well … barmaid work.”

“Oh no.” Ianto blanched as he could see from the way Jack’s eyes were flickering from him to the building behind them what was coming next.

“Sorry. We’re going to have to go check the club as well.”

“We?”

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

Jack threw the remains of his chips, now beginning to congeal and no longer so appealing, into the nearest bin. He firmly took hold of Ianto’s arm and steered him towards the place he had no desire to ever see the inside of again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

High above the street, flourishing in the sediments in the blocked guttering, a pale blue plant twisted in the breeze, its petals scattering as they were dislodged by a sudden gust. Their purpose was finished, they no longer had to protect the fragile nectaries, as the few insects that had been attracted to the strange scent had swiftly succumbed to the toxins in the nectar and had long since been broken down by enzymes. Their amino acids had fed the growing ovules and now the spiky carpel was swelling with fertilised seeds, crammed in tightly, their feathery projections growing at a rapid rate. The higher levels of light had accelerated the plant’s life cycle and its leaves were already beginning to wither, having supplied the next generation with more than enough nutrients to begin all over again.


	8. Chapter 8

Ianto resisted the tug on his arm briefly before taking his place at Jack’s side, shaking his head as it struck him that loyally following wherever the indestructible Captain Harkness went was going to get him killed one day. Whilst Jack hammered on the door, Ianto glanced at the billboards in the doorway and really hoped he wasn’t due to meet his death in a venue for tribute acts and big screen viewings of international rugby games. 

Just as Jack pressed his finger on the door buzzer, belligerently holding it there for maximum annoyance, they both heard the sound of someone running down the stairs behind the door. A disembodied voice yelled at them to go away. That only encouraged Jack to bash on the door even harder than before. He only stopped when the door creaked open slightly and that was all it took for him to wedge a booted foot inside and push it open. The victorious grin flashed by Jack was lost on the surly looking man who was too busy muttering into his mobile, before terminating the call abruptly and shoving the phone back into his pocket.

“Good of you to let us in. We need to talk to the manager.” Jack figured that the heavily built individual was security and not management.

“Who the fuck d’you think you are?” 

The hired muscle glowered at Jack, looking him up and down with growing disapproval. He hated blokes that dressed in military gear unless they were actual squaddies and he couldn’t stand men that looked that well-groomed. As far as he was concerned the overall look could only mean one thing and that made his stomach turn. 

“Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood,” announced Jack, as he took out his wallet and flashed his ID, not breaking eye contact. 

“We’re shut.” The man folded his arms in front of his puffed-out chest and positioned himself so that he was effectively blocking the stairs. “If it’s about a booking for a private party you can call the secretary. Otherwise piss off and come back later. Opening times are on the board out front.” 

Jack turned to Ianto and raised an eyebrow.

“You know what? I don’t think this is the right venue for our Christmas Do after all. What’d’ya think?”

“No, sir. Not classy enough for Janet.” 

As Jack shifted position, it allowed Ianto to get a good look at the man blocking their entry for the first time. He was a good inch or two taller than either himself or Jack, and much thicker about the waist, there was a definite paunch there, if not an actual beer belly. Ianto swore to himself as he recognised the thinning brown hair and bloodshot brown eyes. If he was in any doubt, the tattooed knuckles that spelt out H-A-T-E on both meaty, clenched fists were unforgettable. It was the bouncer who had tackled him to the ground and nearly broken his arm, before hauling him out of the club and handing him over to someone that could have been his twin brother in uniform. Ianto shuffled nervously and tried to calculate the chances of the ground opening up and swallowing him any time soon. 

“You!” 

Any hope of remaining incognito disappeared as the bouncer pointed at Ianto and moved forward as if determined to forcibly evict him. He barrelled past Jack and grabbed hold of Ianto’s jacket, a glint of malice in his eyes as he pushed him towards the doors. 

“Get the fuck out of here!”

“Hey there – there’s no need for that.” 

Jack intervened quickly, eager to avert any further violence. He could see that Ianto was biting his lower lip and suppressing the urge to show the bully that he was not a pushover. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were there on a mission, he might have been tempted to let Ianto get in a punch or two before stopping him, but that was a luxury they couldn’t afford. However, he’d make an exception and tear the guy to pieces himself if he so much as touched Ianto again.

“He’s with me,” Jack stated emphatically.   
“I just bet he is.” The way the man sneered at Ianto, and then at Jack, in open disgust said as much for his views and opinions as the muttered terms of abuse he spat in their direction.

“We’re here on Torchwood business, like I said,” Jack growled out, his jaws clenched in anger. “Just call the goddamn manager and we’ll ask our questions and be gone. Trust me, I’m as keen to get outta here as you are to get rid of us.”

“No fucking way. You and your boyfriend in the fancy suit can get the fuck out of here before I call the cops. It’s the rules, anyone arrested for possessing knives or firearms is automatically barred for life. If the pair of you don’t piss off now, I’m calling the police.”

Much as Jack was tempted to call his bluff, he had yet to figure out what the hell was going on with the Cardiff Police that had ended decades of tolerance and grudgingly rendered co-operation. He was beginning to wish he’d accepted Ianto’s suggestion that, instead of him, he had taken Gwen with him to Albany Road. As it was, Jack had no intention of putting Ianto at risk of more vindictive acts of reprisal.

“Sylvia Bunthorne. Waitress and barmaid, works here occasionally… now in a critical condition in hospital,” Jack snarled, coming close to losing his patience. “Whatever caused her to collapse could be inside this place and if you, or your bosses, want to take a risk on more people getting sick and the whole joint being shut down, that’s your problem now.”

Swirling his coat dramatically, Jack turned towards the door, reaching out to steer Ianto ahead of him.

“Sylvia?” The bouncer sounded different as the hostility in his voice was replaced with concern.

“Yes – when was her last shift here?” Jack pushed for a quick answer having sensed a crack to exploit.

“Last night, local indie band playing, we needed extra bar staff. She going to be alright?”

“I don’t know,” snapped Jack. He’d got an answer, but his mood had soured in the short time he’d been inside the club and he could see that Ianto was shaking with anger. 

The moment the two men stepped out onto the street they were met by a sight that sent their respective bad moods plummeting even further. Attached to the front nearside wheel of the SUV was a large, yellow clamp.


	9. Chapter 9

Jack was not a good passenger at the best of times, let alone in the back of a taxi, and Ianto was relieved when they got out on the Plas, even if he did have to run to catch up with Jack after paying the cab fare.

“Cardiff traffic police – that’s Gwen’s remit isn’t it?” Ianto eventually broke the awkward silence. Jack just grunted in response, so Ianto took a gamble, wanting to evoke a reaction of some sort and he was prepared to take a risk. “That’s unless she’s too busy working on your special project of course.”

It worked. Jack came to a sudden halt, spun around as if about to confront Ianto, but the slightly despondent look on his lover’s face stopped him. He could hardly blame Ianto for being put out by his frequent, private meetings with Gwen, especially when he was keeping him completely in the dark about the purpose of the hushed conversations. 

“Yeah, you’re right, as usual,” replied Jack, sighing softly. “I’ll get her onto that, see if she can get the SUV back before it gets dark.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh was busy checking on all the rift activity logs for the past several weeks, noting down every single event within a one-mile radius of Albany Road. As she built up a picture of intermittent, low energy spikes, she watched Ianto trawling through WhatsApp and Instagram accounts for the students and school girls. He’d already called up the taxi firm and ascertained that the taxi driver had indeed picked up a fare on Albany Road the previous night. They just needed to find anything linking the remaining four victims and they were definitely onto something.

Meanwhile, Jack had accompanied Owen to the hospital to interview the individuals under investigation. Ianto had no doubt in his mind that Jack would get all the authorisation he needed to visit every single patient in the hospital and each member of staff if he so wished. He almost felt a twinge of sympathy for Owen, knowing that Jack wouldn’t exactly be the best of company. In fact, when Jack was in this type of mood, Ianto never hung around for long. Eventually, Jack would calm down and that’s when he’d get a text at some absurd time of the night asking if he was still awake. He smiled to himself as he followed yet another thread of inane schoolgirl gossip looking for links between the two convent girls and Albany Road.

“You OK, Ianto?” asked Tosh, wondering what he’d read that had made Ianto sigh out loud.

“I’m fine, Tosh. Coffee?”

Before Tosh had the chance to reply, the alarms went off in the background signalling the return of Gwen. She looked sheepish as she walked over to Ianto’s work station, a bunch of keys held out in her hand.

“What state is it in?” Ianto hadn’t missed the look on Gwen’s face and it had been almost three hours since they’d abandoned the Torchwood vehicle on the roadside.

“I’m sure it’ll wash off.” Gwen shrugged her shoulders and tried not to shudder as she recalled the particularly nasty graffiti that now adorned the sides of the usually pristine black paint work. “The wing mirrors just need tightening up again … and-”

“Shit, I knew it,” huffed Ianto dramatically as he picked up the keys and rolled his eyes. “Right – if you two want coffee, you’re on your own. And Gwen?”

“Ianto?” 

“It’s your turn to wade through the social media accounts of teenage girls – to be honest it was beginning to make me feel queasy anyway.”

Tosh shook her head as she watched Ianto storm off in the direction of the garage. 

“I’ll make some tea then shall I?” Gwen offered.

“Thanks.” Tosh looked up, detecting a hint of guilt in Gwen’s voice. “Is it really bad?” 

“Oh yes. Put it this way, I was glad it was dark when I had to drive it back. It took a while to get someone out with the right keys to disable the clamp. Ianto’s going to have a fit when he sees it.”

“We’d better keep out of his way then I guess?”

“Definitely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto had left his jacket hanging up on one of the hooks on the wall of the garage. His waistcoat was unbuttoned, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up. He’d managed to hose off the dried remains of the eggs that had been thrown with some force at the sides of the SUV. He’d also removed the worst of the graffiti with the solvent spray he’d stocked up on after using the company car when he’d last visited his sister. His arms ached from the effort of removing every last trace of the disgusting comments sprayed onto the body of the SUV. It was a wonder the tyres hadn’t been slashed as well. 

Standing back to check that he’d not missed anything, Ianto picked up a soft chamois cloth and a tin of wax. From further back he spotted a fragment of eggshell that had got stuck inside the raised rim on the front of the roof. Frowning, he set aside the polishing kit and grabbed a damp cloth to dislodge the offending egg shell. As he did so, something sharp cut into the flesh of his thumb, causing him to yelp in surprise at the unexpected pain. Dropping the cloth to the ground, he looked at his thumb and seeing the tiny droplets of blood appearing, he automatically put it in his mouth and sucked hard. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to have done much damage, closer inspection revealed a slight puncture wound, but it was barely bleeding any more. 

It was when he leaned down to pick up the cloth he’d dropped to put it back into the bucket that he started to feel dizzy and lightheaded. He felt vaguely nauseous and wondered when he’d last had something to eat, but the swirling spots of light that were invading his field of view made it hard to concentrate. He slumped down at the side of the SUV, rested his head against the wheel arch and tried to take a deep breath, feeling short of air all of a sudden. But however hard he tried, he couldn’t, his throat felt constricted as if an unseen hand was tightening around his neck. 

Trying desperately not to panic, Ianto reached up and grabbed hold of the nearest door handle and after wrenching the door open, he hauled himself inside. He scrabbled around frantically looking for the spare comm unit that was normally tucked into a compartment under the dashboard and then swore as he dropped it into the foot well.

He couldn’t see it … it was too dark … getting darker… 

Before losing consciousness, Ianto summoned the energy to drag his upper body over the steering wheel and then let gravity pull him forward and down onto the horn. 

The last thing he heard was the blaring sound of the SUV’s horn echoing in the empty garage.


	10. Chapter 10

“I’m just saying we should report that place for letting in underage girls,” grumbled Owen as he revved his car at the traffic lights. “They’re meant to check. You heard what those girls said, they never get carded. They were just kids the pair of them – anything could happen to them.”

“Trust me, Owen, I would love to shut that place down, but there’s something there that’s making people sick and until we get to the bottom of this, we need to hold fire.” 

Jack kept to himself his suspicions about the rough handling of Ianto at the hands of that damn bouncer, but he would bide his time and make sure the bastard paid for it. The bruising on Ianto's arms had meant that it had been days since he’d been able to hold onto him without making him wince with pain and that was beyond unacceptable.  
“Bollocks. I say we all go in tomorrow and read the bastards the riot act. I bet they were responsible for getting the SUV wheel-clamped as well,” Owen snorted as he heard Jack’s muttered reaction. “I hope Gwen’s got that sorted out now. You’re a crap passenger.”  
“That light wasn’t red yet – you had plenty of time!” countered Jack, not in the least apologetic for swearing when Owen had slammed on the brakes. “Anyway, Gwen’s got the SUV back - she sent me a text while we were in the hospital. Said it needed cleaning.”  
Owen turned to look at Jack and could tell in an instant that he knew that was not a good thing.

“I bet I know who’s been landed with that job. Bloody hell, you are so going to owe him …”

“I’ll make it up to Ianto,” protested Jack, but he did accept he was in deep shit over the whole clamping incident. In fact, he had screwed up from the point when he’d insisted that Ianto accompany him to Albany Road against the other man’s better instincts.

“You’d better, otherwise he’ll make everyone’s life hell. He’ll sulk and not make coffee, or order lunch, not that it bothers me, but it makes for a crap working atmosphere.”

“I will – promise.” Jack smiled to himself as he contemplated the power that Ianto managed to wield over them all, even though they were all perfectly capable of getting themselves hot drinks or phoning up for a pizza. “You wanna bet he’s still in the garage, waiting for us to get back?”

“Waiting for you more like, to give you a bollocking for parking on double yellows again. We should have a special parking permit made you know.”

“We shouldn’t need one – the big letters spelling out Torchwood ought to be permit enough.”

“And I thought I was an arrogant git.” Owen ducked sideways as Jack reached out to give him a clip about the head.

Still grinning, Owen swung his sports car into the entrance to the Torchwood garage, pausing just long enough to enter the correct code into the keypad and wait for the barrier to lift. It was while he had the window wound down that both he and Jack heard the sound of a horn blaring out. Owen turned to look at Jack and they both frowned. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Jack was the first out of the car, throwing the door open before it stopped moving. As he ran over to the SUV he could see Ianto collapsed over the steering wheel. His first instinct was to feel for a pulse and it was only when he found one that he allowed himself the luxury of breathing out.

“Ianto? Speak to me! Come on! Ianto!” begged Jack as he shook Ianto’s arm in desperation.

“Out of the way – let me see him,” yelled Owen, making sure he could be heard over the sound of the horn. He was anxious to assess the situation as quickly as possible.

Reluctantly, Jack moved out of the doctor’s way, but he hovered close by, shaking with a combination of fear and anger.

Owen carefully eased Ianto off the steering wheel and back into the driver’s seat. The sound of the horn was replaced by a nervous silence. A quick examination was enough for him to see that Ianto was in the throes of a severe allergic reaction: eyelids puffy and swollen, as were his lips, which were tinged with blue, indicating cyanosis. Owen noted that Ianto’s complexion was pale and clammy. 

As Ianto began to partly recover consciousness, panic set in as he found himself unable to breathe properly or open his eyes.

“It’s OK, Ianto, we’ve got you, you’re going to be alright. Try to stay calm.” Owen turned quickly to Jack and hissed urgently. “Fuck it … we need to get him out of there and lying flat, now!”

Jack responded rapidly and took hold of Ianto’s shoulders as Owen took his legs. It wasn’t easy as he was flailing around, frightened and unable to focus on what they were trying to tell him, but eventually they managed to get him lying down on the wet concrete floor of the garage. Owen pulled off his leather jacket and bundled it up to place under Ianto’s head and then leant down to gauge his breathing – it was shallow and rapid, and he could hear tell-tale wheezing. 

Needing to do something, Jack pulled off his coat and tucked it around Ianto, not wanting him to get cold. He wished he could make eye contact, but Ianto's eyes were swollen shut, tears spilling from beneath the lids. Jack hushed Ianto telling him to save his breath, not wanting to contemplate that the words he was choking on were potentially his last.

“Listen up, Jack – I’m going to get the heavy duty medical kit from the back of the SUV. I need you to try emergency breathing for him- we’ve got to get some oxygen into his lungs. Got it?”

Nodding quickly, Jack took over, tilting Ianto’s head back gently and slipping a finger into his mouth to make sure his tongue wasn’t obscuring the back of his throat, before pinching his nose, taking a deep breath, sealing his lips over Ianto’s mouth and forcing as much air in as he could, pushing past the resistance. He kept one hand cupping the back of Ianto’s head, desperately trying to reassure him and comfort him, although he was far from calm himself.

Again and again, Jack breathed into Ianto’s lungs, willing him to hold on. Within moments, Owen returned and flung open the large case he’d grabbed from the SUV. A quick scan confirmed the visual symptoms: his blood pressure was too low and was steadily falling.

Without preamble, Owen grabbed a syringe from the kit and then plunged the needle straight through Ianto’s trousers and into his thigh muscle. He ignored the strangled scream that tore itself from Ianto’s lips as the pain caught him unawares. Jack’s angry glare was less easy to dismiss.

“Epinephrine – should help raise his blood pressure, get some oxygenated blood to his brain.” 

Owen then nudged Jack out of the way to get a good look at the back of Ianto’s throat – the light from his slim torch showing just how badly swollen his pharynx was.

Swearing with venom, Owen grabbed another pre-prepared syringe from his kit, a fast-acting sedative. Although he would rather set up an IV line to get some urgent medications into Ianto, there wasn’t time for that, not while there was a serious risk of him suffocating to death first.

“What the hell are you doing, Owen?” Jack’s eyes were wide with fear. He recognised the urgency with which Owen was taking action; he only ever worked on a patient like that when the situation was critical.

“Sedating him – I’m gonna have to intubate him, his airway’s still getting narrower. If I don’t get a tube down his windpipe the only alternative is a tracheotomy… and I really don’t think you’re going to want to see me cut into Ianto’s throat.”

“What do you want me to do?” Jack’s voice was higher than normal, his own throat tightening as the emotions ran high. He had pulled Ianto up onto his lap and was cradling him in his arms. A tear was tracking its way down his cheek, but he was too intent on maintaining physical contact with Ianto to waste time wiping the moisture from his eyes.

“I need you to hold his head perfectly still.” Owen cursed his damaged hand, he needed to be steady as a rock to use the laryngoscope to guide the flexible tube down Ianto’s trachea. Biting his lip, he steeled himself to do the best damn job he could. He couldn’t afford to screw up, Ianto was running out of time.

Ianto had relaxed as the sedative took effect and that’s when Owen set to work intubating him. Jack did a fine job, holding Ianto in firmly in place and whispering reassurances to him, words of comfort that were as much for himself and Owen as they were for their ailing friend.

“Got it, thank fuck for that,” sighed Owen with relief. “Here, you know what to do with this, don’t you?”

Owen passed a cervical collar to Jack, who carefully fixed it around Ianto’s neck to keep him from moving.

Once convinced that air was able to get into Ianto’s lungs, Owen pulled at the rolled up shirt sleeve and tore it to gain access to a vein. It took him three attempts before he successfully managed to insert a needle and set up an IV port. The tension from the tricky intubation procedure had left him shaking.

“First things first, chlorphenamine – need to get this swelling down.” Owen informed Jack as he injected a dose of the antihistamine into Ianto’s vein. “The rest can wait until we get him somewhere more comfortable. Jack – stretcher under the back seats, we need that and a blanket.”

“Owen – is he going to be OK?” Jack demanded as he leapt to his feet to fetch the stretcher. “Don’t we need to get him to hospital?” 

“Until I find out how long he’s been collapsed, I can’t say for certain. I’ll know more once I can get some steroids into him and a crystalloid infusion to counteract hypovolaemia-”

“The what?” asked Jack. He couldn’t help but look worried as they carefully transferred Ianto from the floor of the garage onto the stretcher. Both men took great care not to move Ianto’s head or neck unduly.

“One of the main effects of the allergic reaction is leaky capillaries – excess tissue fluid builds up, that’s what causes all that bloody swelling. Also results in a drop in blood pressure due to low blood volume, that’s the hypovolaemia I mentioned. We need to get him back into the Hub for me to sort that out properly.”

Jack carefully tucked the blanket around Ianto before asking Owen once more if they should just take him straight to hospital.

“I could have him admitted, but I can deal with it faster here, and speed is what we need right now. Besides, I’d only demand that I take charge of his treatment anyway – and there’s no guarantee they’d actually let me do that.”

Jack swallowed hard as he took on board what Owen was saying.

“He is going to be OK though?”

“Like I said, that depends on how long he was out before we got here – I don’t know how long he was unconscious for.”

“Worst case scenario, Owen.” Jack wasn’t asking, he was demanding an answer.

“Possible renal or hepatic failure, maybe even brain damage. All we can do is monitor him for the next twenty-four hours and hope he recovers more quickly than those poor bastards back in the ICU.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Watch the damn steps, Owen!” 

“I am! It would be easier if you stopped rushing-” 

“You’re the one who said we had to move fast!” 

Confused by the sounds of Owen and Jack arguing as they struggled to carry something large and unwieldy into the Hub, Gwen looked over towards them with curiosity. She was about to playfully tick them off for disturbing her and Tosh when they were working, but the words froze on her lips as she realised that it was a stretcher they were manoeuvring through the narrow corridor and that the body on it belonged to Ianto. Instantly she shoved her seat out of the way as she rushed towards them. 

“Oh my God – what happened?” She was horrified by the sight of Ianto’s swollen face distorted by the tube protruding from between his lips. 

Catching sight of the shocked expression on Gwen’s face, Tosh spun round to see what was happening and then she, too, was on her feet. 

“What do you need, Owen?” Tosh called out, heading directly for the steps that led down into Owen’s autopsy bay that dealt with the living, dead and indeterminate on a daily basis. 

“Set up an IV stand and prep a 500ml fluid challenge… an oximeter and oxygen on stand by as well.” 

“Got it – come on, Gwen.” Tosh took hold of Gwen’s arm and took charge. It wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Ianto, for them to stand around and gawp in horror. 

“Thanks, Tosh.” Owen was relieved that at least one of his colleagues was able to maintain an objective approach, because that was what Ianto needed, far more than sympathy and tears. 

Tosh got Gwen to hold onto the IV stand as she hung up the bag of crystalloid infusion as requested by Owen. The stand was in no danger of falling over, but Tosh thought it wise to keep Gwen out of the way of the two men who gingerly carried the stretcher down the steps before gently setting it down on top of the autopsy table. 

Once Owen had connected the IV line to the catheter in Ianto’s arm, he took the oximeter from Tosh and slipped it onto the index finger of his patient’s left hand. Tosh waited anxiously for the figures to register on the portable screen, eventually relaxing as she saw that the figures for oxygen saturation in the blood were within acceptable parameters and as her eyes met Owen’s she could tell that he was also relieved. Although they had an oxygen cylinder at the ready, they were both aware of the fact that if they had to resort to artificial ventilation there were likely to be additional risks and complications. Owen would have had to make a call on whether or not to get Ianto transferred to a hospital ICU at that point. 

“Is he going to be OK?” Gwen asked frantically, her voice trembling as she observed the silent dialogue between her two colleagues. She looked across to Jack, standing at the end of the stretcher, his head bowed over Ianto’s prone form, forehead almost touching that of the younger man. Gwen wasn’t sure who she should be most concerned about. 

Owen sighed as he moved around to one side so that he could connect the IV line to the port he’d put into Ianto’s arm. He really was in no mood to spout platitudes or make out that all was going to be fine. They were all hovering about him wanting him to make everything right and he really needed more space to work in. It was a given that Jack wasn’t going anywhere, not while Ianto was in such a precarious condition, but he needed an assistant he could depend on to react fast and not ask unnecessary questions, Tosh was the obvious candidate. That left Gwen; he needed to get her out of the way, doing something useful. She was clutching hold of the IV stand, her eyes brimming over with tears as she bit her lower lip in a futile attempt to stop it from wobbling. Owen knew she was close to Ianto, but her reactions weren’t helping him and they sure as hell weren’t going to make this any easier for Jack. 

“Gwen, listen up – there’s something really important I want you to do for me - I need you to go check through the security camera recordings from the garage,” Owen looked up as he injected a measured dose of steroids into the IV line. He was pleased to see Gwen looking at him expectantly, ready to take instructions. “I need to know exactly how much time passed between Ianto collapsing over the wheel and when I managed to get that tube down his throat. That should give me an idea of the maximum time his brain would’ve been deprived of oxygen.”   
“What about Tosh, couldn’t she-?”   
“I need Tosh to do some blood work for me. Whilst you’re at it, see if you can spot anything strange before he collapsed, anything that will help us find out what caused this, OK?” 

“Yes, Owen.” Gwen gave him a wonky smile in gratitude before dashing up the stairs, sparing Ianto one last look, before she headed for the nearest computer. She had a sick feeling in her stomach that this was her fault, she should have offered to help Ianto clean the SUV – at least that way he wouldn’t have been alone when he collapsed. As it was she had no idea how long he’d been down there, unconscious, while she’d sat at his work station sipping tea and eating biscuits. 

“I could’ve done that,” mumbled Jack, as he straightened up, his eyes not leaving the prostrate figure on the stretcher. 

“Really? Because I was under the impression you aren’t going to be shifted from his side in a hurry.” Owen raised an eyebrow and shook his head, he hadn’t failed to notice that Jack hadn’t let go of Ianto’s hand. “But if you’re going to hang around, you can do something useful instead of getting in my way.” 

“Anything.” 

“Loosen your grip and see if his fingers are any less swollen. Then you can get him out of those damp trousers, we need to keep him warm and dry.” Owen figured that Jack could cope with that task safely enough, even in the slightly detached state he was in. 

“I think they’re getting better, they bend easier now as well.” 

Jack held Ianto’s hand loosely and gently flexed the fingers. Pressing a quick kiss to the back of Ianto’s hand he settled it onto the unconscious man’s chest. Then he set about removing the cold, damp suit trousers, unbuckling the belt and undoing the button carefully before pulling down the zip. It felt odd doing this in front of Tosh and Owen, he could imagine Ianto’s face if he could see this, he’d probably turn pink with embarrassment. The puddles of water on the cold concrete floor had soaked into Ianto’s clothes as they had worked on him in the garage. As Jack eased the sodden fabric from Ianto’s legs, he could feel the cold, damp, skin of his thighs, the muscles underneath unresponsive and still, as if he was already dead and that chilled him to the core. 

“You OK?” Owen asked as he noticed Jack shudder. It was never a pleasant experience, watching someone you cared about go through anaphylactic shock. Owen could see that Jack was not dealing with this well. 

“It must have been something at that damn club,” growled Jack as he tossed the shoes and crumpled clothing to one side and helped Tosh place a clean blanket over Ianto’s body. 

“Surely you’d’ve been affected as well?” Owen countered Jack’s assertion as he pulled over a stool to sit on as he prepared to take blood from Ianto. “Unless your weird physiology makes you immune to the effects of whatever’s causing this.” 

“Not if he was specifically targeted.” 

Jack thought back over the past week and decided that it looked suspiciously as if Ianto was being singled out for punishment. He held on tight to Ianto’s hand, stroking his thumb over the slightly puffy knuckles, desperately needing reassurance that he was going to get through this. Too many things had happened in too short a space of time for this to be coincidental. 

“You don’t really think this was deliberate, do you?” Owen frowned as he drew a blood sample from the arm that Jack wasn’t jealously guarding. 

“I don’t know what to think.” 

“Owen – I’ve got it!” Gwen yelled out, as if the staccato clatter of her boot heels on the steps wasn’t sufficient to gain their attention. 

“First of all – maximum time unconscious,” snapped Owen, wanting the most pertinent piece of information first. He scowled as he held a piece of gauze against the inside of Ianto’s elbow to stop the bleeding. 

“Maximum time would have been eight minutes. Is that bad?”   
“Could’ve been worse.” Owen shut his eyes as he mentally calculated the risk, taking into account the fact that Ianto hadn’t actually stopped breathing completely. “Now tell me the rest.”  
“OK, he was cleaning the SUV for a while, nothing odd, then it looked like he saw something on the roof. I zoomed in and all I could see was a piece of eggshell. Anyway, he went to wipe that away and I think he must have cut himself on a sharp edge – he pulled his hand back and sucked his thumb-” 

“Hold up –” Owen stopped her mid flow and then grabbed hold of Ianto’s right hand and saw for the first time the dark red scratch on the pad of his thumb. The area surrounding the cut skin was still raised and puffy. Owen quickly swabbed the area and placed the swab into a sterile sample tube. If Ianto had put the causative agent directly into his mouth, that could account for the rapid onset of symptoms. 

“Eggshell?” asked Jack, confused, wondering what eggshells had to do with anything. 

“Along with the spray paint, the SUV had eggs thrown at it,” answered Gwen, looking upset. Once again, she regretted not having helped Ianto get it clean. It now occurred to her that the offensive slogans painted on the doors and bonnet were directly aimed at him and Jack. She shook her head as she caught the tail end of something Tosh was saying. 

“…immunoglobulins can be cultured inside eggs.” 

“What’s that then?” asked Gwen, looking to Owen for a less technical explanation. 

“Antibodies. There are specific immunoglobulins associated with severe allergic reactions. We need to find what’s left of those eggs and test the remnants.” Owen knew what Tosh was thinking, but he wasn’t totally convinced that she was on the right track. None of the other victims had been in contact with eggs as far as he knew. 

“If that bastard did this deliberately… if he put something on the SUV-” 

“Jack, I drove it back – I’m fine, it must be something else.” Gwen shook her head in denial, not wanting to believe that the cause of Ianto’s dire condition was something she’d brought back unwittingly. 

“How are you feeling, Gwen?” Tosh asked. 

“Apart from being worried sick about Ianto, fine… I’m fine, really.” 

“OK, let’s deal with the facts we’ve got.” Owen took charge, seeing that Gwen was feeling guilty and Jack vengeful, neither emotion conducive to clear thinking. “The nine taken sick so far – all had been on Albany Road, in close proximity to that club – but the others took about twelve hours before they got sick. That means there’s potentially still time for Gwen and Jack to be affected.” 

“But why did Ianto react differently? Why did he collapse so quickly?” Tosh challenged. 

“A more sensitised immune system perhaps? Or maybe because he ingested it and the others took it into their bodies by a different route, probably inhalation. I need to test his blood and see if there are any shared factors with our other eight victims.” 

“Where are their blood samples? I’ll get onto the analysis.” 

“Shit, I left the sample case in my car. Tosh-” 

“No, the SUV may still be unsafe. I don’t want to take any chances.” Jack took a deep breath. He didn’t want to leave Ianto, but neither did he want Tosh or Gwen exposed to possible danger. “I’ll go fetch the blood samples. Is he stable?” 

“For now, yes – and I’m keeping him sedated until I can remove that tube from his throat. At the rate the swelling’s going down and his blood pressure’s rising, it’s going to be at least another twenty minutes – so you’ve got time.” 

“I’ll try and find some of those eggshell fragments while I’m down there. Gwen – get onto the CCTV on Albany Road. I’m sure the council or the police must monitor that area – someone threw those eggs and I want to know who.” 

“Right you are, Jack.” Gwen couldn’t help but hope that the people responsible were just ignorant kids and nothing more sinister. The thought that someone would purposefully leave traces of a dangerous chemical on the Torchwood vehicle in the hopes of making one of them very ill was more than slightly disturbing. 

As Jack and Gwen left the autopsy bay in opposite directions, Tosh started working on Ianto’s blood sample, centrifuging it to start with to separate the plasma from the blood cells. 

“What shall I focus on? Immunoglobulins? Antigens?” 

“Run every test we have – I need to know what caused this reaction, then we might stand a chance of figuring out what the hell is responsible.” 

“How is he?” Tosh asked quietly, risking the question now that Jack was out of earshot. “Blood pressure looks better now.” 

Owen glanced at the screen of the monitor and nodded in agreement, Ianto’s blood pressure had risen gradually, indicating that the combination of treatments was having a positive effect. However, he didn’t want to risk removing the endotracheal tube until he knew for certain that the opening to his airway would stay open without it. 

“Yeah, he’s getting there. Lips and eyelids are less swollen, and his breathing is less wheezy. Let’s just hope that he can be extubated before Jack takes it on himself to pay a return visit to Albany Road with retribution in mind.” 

“He’s worried isn’t he?” 

“That’s an understatement – I’d have said scared shitless. Mind you, it was definitely touch and go there for a bit.” Owen paused and looked over to Tosh as he allowed himself to consider just how close it had been. “Fucking hell, Tosh, if we’d have been a few minutes later getting back- if I’d have let Jack stop for food on the way back, like he wanted to – we would’ve been too late.” 

“But you didn’t, and it wasn’t. Ianto is going to pull through. He’s going to be alright.” Tosh forced herself to sound more confident than she was. But if anyone could save Ianto, she believed that Owen could.


	12. Chapter 12

Gwen chewed the lid of her biro as she checked through CCTV footage, making notes of blackouts in transmission and recording the relevant time stamps. She’d been thwarted in her attempts to get images of the individuals responsible for vandalising the SUV. It struck her that Jack could have a point and that something had been planted on the vehicle and the plan was for it to be brought back to their base, otherwise why hadn’t the tyres been slashed, or at the very least let down? Something wasn’t making sense. 

Shaking her head in frustration, she rested the pen on the edge of her keyboard and set to typing out an email to her old work partner, Andy Davidson, asking if he could find out who’d been patrolling Albany Road that day and whether or not they’d seen anyone acting suspiciously. Hoping that he wouldn’t just write back describing Jack and Ianto, she sighed heavily and started to go through the captures she had made from the footage she had been able to access. 

She began with an image of the SUV outside the club, Jack leaning against it, eating chips as Ianto glared at him, followed by a series showing them both heading inside the club. There didn’t appear to be anyone else nearby at the time, no one apparently watching them. The next series of images bore witness to a short, blustery shower of rain that left the tarmac of the road glistening wet and the black paintwork of the SUV decorated with shiny droplets of water, along with a smattering of dead leaves plastered to the windscreen. There was also the small matter of a parking violation notice jammed under the windscreen wipers and, from a different camera positioned at the junction, a distant shot picking up the bright yellow of the wheel clamp. Gwen was disturbed by the fact that she’d been unable to find any footage of anyone actually immobilising the SUV or vandalising it; that bothered her as it gave credence to Jack’s contention that a faction within Cardiff Police was deliberately obstructing Torchwood. 

The recordings of Jack’s reactions on finding the car immobilised were all intact; Gwen smiled wryly as she observed that his body language was loud enough to compensate for the lack of actual sound. In the background Ianto was making a call on his mobile – presumably summoning a taxi, a look of resignation on his face as he kept a close eye on Jack.

“I sometimes wonder why he puts up with me.”

Gwen was startled by Jack’s voice at her shoulder. 

“Bloody hell, Jack, give a girl some warning, why don’t you!”

“He tried to tell me that going there would be a bad idea.” 

Jack set down a small cold box on the floor, the one containing the blood samples that Owen had collected at the hospital earlier. He leaned over Gwen’s shoulder to get a closer look at the screen. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he looked at the image of Ianto on Albany Road earlier that day. 

“Got anything?”

“If by that you mean anyone, the answer is no. There’s no record of anyone going anywhere near the SUV apart from you and Ianto. It would appear that the cameras weren’t actually recording at the time you got wheel clamped or when the SUV was spray-painted and egged.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Jack exclaimed in disbelief. “That has gotta be deliberate. Those are police CCTV recordings you’ve pulled up, aren’t they?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Jack, but it really does look like you’re right.” 

Gwen shook her head sadly; she’d spent many an hour arguing with Jack that he had to be mistaken and that what had happened to Ianto had to have been a random incident involving a rogue officer and not a pattern. She’d not been willing to accept that the police in Cardiff would condone homophobia or victimisation of anyone taken into custody. She’d agreed to help Jack find out exactly who’d been involved with Ianto’s arrest in order to smooth relations with the constabulary, to sort out the misunderstandings so they could all move forward. However, she was still hitting brick walls with that particular line of enquiry as the relevant files had apparently been misfiled and were currently unavailable. But Gwen’s conscience was prompting her to shift away from the comfort of denial and move back into the discomfort of reality. 

“It does look like we’re being targeted. You and Ianto in particular. What the hell is going on, Jack? Who’s behind this?”

“I wish I knew, but I am not letting them win, d’you hear me, Gwen? We’re gonna fight back. Don’t give up – you know the drill – look at recordings from adjacent streets with any people or vehicles in common, cross match faces and number plates. I want to know who went in and out of the area outside that club in the time the SUV was parked there.” 

“OK, Jack.” Gwen took a deep breath and resolved not to let Jack down. She had a feeling that they’d only just come across the tip of a particularly treacherous iceberg and that the only way they could survive this was to know just how much lurked out of sight.

“Meanwhile, I need to get this down to Owen and Tosh.” Jack lifted the box from the floor, hoping it held some answers.

“Ianto’s going to be alright now, isn’t he?” Gwen turned to ask Jack before he’d taken more than a couple of steps. She’d convinced herself beforehand that Owen would miraculously revive Ianto, but chided herself for being overly optimistic. Yet again she’d immersed herself in the waters of denial, but she really didn’t want to consider any other option.

“I hope so, Gwen, I really hope so, because if -”

Jack never finished his sentence. The sounds of Owen’s voice calling out loudly caught his attention and without hesitation Jack was running in the direction of the disturbance from the autopsy bay, closely followed by Gwen. Under the gruff barking of commands from the medic, he could hear Tosh’s voice firmly trying to reassure Ianto. That had to mean Ianto was conscious again. A crashing sound resonated as a dish of instruments was knocked to the floor. Then, as he heard louder gagging and coughing, Jack knew instantly what was going on and dashed down to help.

“Jack – hold his arms, for fuck’s sake, he’s panicking. Gwen – go fetch some drinking water!”

“It’s OK, Ianto – I’ve got you now.” Jack made sure he wasn’t in Owen’s way as he took position on the opposite side of Ianto and firmly restrained him, making sure he knew who was holding him down. “It’s gonna be OK. Trust me. Listen to Owen, do what he says.”

Ianto became quieter on hearing Jack, the large warm hands on his arms beseeching him to calm down. But even though his movements became less frantic, tears still spilt over his cheeks. He was hurting and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t make himself understood. He’d thought he was dying and now he was awake and scared witless. 

“Listen up, Ianto – you’ve got to take it easy or this is going to hurt more than it has to.” Owen spoke softly, making sure that he made eye contact with Ianto and that he was able to understand what he was telling him. “Come on – you’re shagging Jack, you’ve got to have had bigger things than this down your throat. Come on, control that gag reflex!”

Suddenly, Ianto’s movements were stilled, his red-rimmed eyes widened, and he forced every scrap of energy he could muster into glaring at Owen with a mixture of outrage and fury. 

Owen grinned, he’d managed to shock Ianto out of hyperventilating and entering a panic attack. He’d deal with the fall-out of his crude comments later, once he’d safely extubated Ianto. He figured Jack would let him off if he succeeded in keeping Ianto alive.

“That’s better, now on the count of three I want you to cough and then we’ll get this out of you – blink twice if you understand.”

Ianto blinked twice but didn’t stop glowering with rage. He could feel Jack holding him securely. On the mark, he coughed harshly, feeling something solid being pulled past his vocal cords as Owen swiftly removed the endotracheal tube from his windpipe. The sensation of the end of the plastic tube scraping past his palate made him gag uncontrollably. Feeling his stomach muscles clench involuntarily Ianto turned to hang his head over the side of the stretcher quickly, glad to find a bucket placed under his chin as he vomited painfully. His throat felt sore enough already and the acid from his stomach brought even more tears to his eyes. 

“Oh shit …” he croaked, clumsily wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Hey there, it’s OK. You’re going to be alright,” soothed Jack, as much for his own benefit as Ianto’s. Having noted the tone of Ianto’s reactions he was reassured that no lasting damage had been incurred. He gently stroked Ianto’s back as Tosh fetched a moist cloth to wipe his mouth. 

Owen pushed Jack to one side to get a closer look at his patient.

“Take it easy now, don’t try to speak too much, your throat’s going to be sore for a while. Let me have a look, come on, open wide.” Owen crouched down to shine a torch into Ianto’s mouth, pleased to note that the swelling had mostly gone down, leaving some residual redness as a consequence of the intubation. “Gwen – you got that water?”

“Here.” Gwen produced a paper cup of water which Ianto tried to take, only to see Jack take it first and guide it to his lips carefully.

Taking his time, Ianto rinsed his mouth out several times and spat into the bucket that Tosh was holding out once more. There was a foul taste in his mouth and he needed to get rid of it. Another cup of water was pressed to his lips with instructions to sip slowly and he was glad of the cool liquid as it seemed to soothe the rawness of the back of his throat, washing away the sour taste of the vomit. Despite the warmth of Jack’s body close behind him, Ianto shivered – the blanket had slipped aside, revealing that he was dressed only in a damp shirt and boxers.

“Clothes?” he mumbled. When he’d first come around, he’d been terrified, finding himself on his back, with a tube down his throat. He remembered being in the garage, the last thing he recalled was feeling as if he was being choked and then nothing. 

“You collapsed in the garage, in the SUV, we pulled you out, but you ended up in a puddle, that’s how your trousers got wet, if you were wondering and in case you’re worried, it was me that took them off, not Owen,” babbled Jack, wanting to dispel the fear that he saw in Ianto’s eyes. 

Pausing to take a breath, Jack looked up at the rest of the team and hoped they’d take the hint and leave him alone with Ianto now they could see for themselves that he was alive and as well as could be expected. What Ianto needed most now was rest and the opportunity to recover his dignity, which wasn’t going to happen whilst he lay there dishevelled, snuffling and half naked while the others hovered expectantly.

“Right then – twenty-four hours observation required and I reckon Jack will be doing that as a matter of course. We’ll finish up here with the blood work and sputum samples.” Owen steered Tosh away from the autopsy table and back towards the side bench. He turned to take a good look at Ianto. “You’re going to feel knackered, mate, so best thing is if you get into something dry and hit the sack sooner rather than later. I want you to stay here and not go home, so that probably means using Jack’s quarters.”

“So, you’re advising Ianto to spend the night in my bed as a medical precaution?”

“Only you’d interpret my words like that! What he needs is sleep-”

“He is still here and can speak for himself, just. Owen, thank you … for whatever you did…” Although Ianto didn’t know precisely what Owen had done, he could tell from Jack’s behaviour that it had been a close call. “Jack, before he changes his mind, please take me to bed, this table is bloody uncomfortable.”

As Ianto gingerly levered himself off the autopsy table, he gratefully let Jack slide an arm around his waist to help him keep his balance. 

Gwen picked up the blanket from the floor and carefully draped it over Ianto’s shoulders, tucking the corners into his hands, so he could keep it from falling to the ground. Reaching out to give him a gentle hug, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel for herself that he was alright.

“Glad you’re OK, sweetheart. You had us scared for a while there. You take good care of him, Jack, you hear me?”

“I will, Gwen, trust me I will.” Jack pulled Ianto closer to his side, noting how cold he was and wanting nothing more than to warm him up and not let him go for the rest of the day.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK - this was first written many years ago. I have visited some of the labs in Porton Down (walked past fridges containing Ebola and other nasty pathogens). The irony of posting this chapter today, whilst living in Salisbury, in light of recent events, is not lost on me... This is purely coincidental.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hold up a moment.” Jack stopped to pull his coat off to provide Ianto with extra warmth. “You’re shivering – put this on until we get to my room.”

“God, that’s lovely and warm.” 

Ianto’s voice sounded as though he had a cold, deeper than usual and slightly hoarse. He let Jack take the blanket as he gratefully slid his arms into the pre-warmed sleeves of the long, woollen coat. 

“I swear you must generate more heat than normal humans.”

“Only when I’m either turned on or worried sick-”

“So that would be what…twenty-three hours a day?”

“Very funny – although I can hold you personally responsible for about eighty percent of that.” Jack smiled fondly as he took hold of Ianto’s left arm and steered him towards the steps leading to his office.

Ianto tucked his right hand into the coat pocket without thinking and then frowned.

“Jack – what the hell have you got in here?”

“Damn – the eggshells!”

“The what?”

“Eggshells – don’t touch them!”

“They’re in a bag-”

“I don’t care! Don’t touch the bag either!” Jack quickly grabbed hold of Ianto’s wrist. The last thing he wanted to see was a repeat performance of Ianto collapsing.

Carefully extricating Ianto’s hand from the offending pocket, Jack proceeded to pull out a plastic specimen bag filled with fragments of broken eggshell.

“Have I missed something?” Ianto wondered what had happened whilst he’d been incapacitated.

“Gwen looked through the security camera recordings. Just before you collapsed you cleaned a piece of eggshell from the roof of the SUV. It looked like you might’ve cut your hand on it – your thumb.” Jack held up Ianto’s hand and pointed at the small dressing that Owen had put on his hand. “Does it hurt? It was kinda swollen.”

“Not really – stings a bit, that’s all.” Ianto shook his head, he didn’t remember cutting his hand on eggshell, and he didn’t really think it would be sharp enough. But if Jack said that he did, he must have.

“I went back to collect samples for testing. Hang on here a moment – I’ll get these to Owen and Tosh. I’ll be straight back.” Jack sat Ianto down on the bottom step and gave him a stern look. “Don’t go anywhere!”

“Where would I go wearing nothing but a shirt, underwear and your coat?” Ianto asked rhetorically. However, he could vaguely recall wearing something similar whilst hiding under the boardroom table, but this wasn’t the time for hide’n’seek Harkness-style.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There wasn’t much room in Jack’s sleeping quarters for more than a bed and a few items of furniture for storing clothes, and definitely not enough space for a chair to place next to the bed. That’s why Jack settled for sitting on the floor, with his back to the wall, so he could keep vigil over Ianto as he slept. By the time he’d returned from the autopsy bay, Jack had found Ianto curled up in his coat at the bottom of the stairs, barely able to keep his eyes open. He’d had to crouch down and gently jostle Ianto’s shoulder to rouse him and tell him in no uncertain terms that it was “time for bed”. The fact that Ianto had meekly accepted that instruction with no snarky rejoinder had told Jack just how tired he’d been. As soon as Ianto was out of the cold, damp clothes, and tucked in snugly under several blankets, he’d drifted off to sleep almost immediately. Jack hadn’t been surprised, not considering the probable aftereffects of the various medications given by Owen and the shock of almost choking to death. Ianto snuffled in his sleep as he turned over, losing the blanket from his shoulders, but Jack was at hand to pull the errant bedcovers back into place.

Although tempted to shed his own clothing, slide into bed and snuggle up close to Ianto, Jack was too anxious to find out what had caused the life-threatening allergic reaction in the first place, to allow himself the luxury of relaxing. He couldn’t shake off the suspicion that someone had deliberately infiltrated his base with a toxin capable of laying waste to his team. He took it personally, not least of all because Ianto had been so badly affected. 

When he’d handed over the eggshells for analysis, Jack had issued clear warnings that no-one, other than himself and Owen, were to enter the garage until they had established whether it was safe to go near the SUV. Owen and Tosh were working hard to determine the chemical composition of the toxin that had caused catastrophic reactions in the nine known victims. Until then, Jack wasn’t taking any more risks, he’d even refused to let Tosh go in there wearing a hazmat suit. His team were all he had left and he’d learnt the hard way to value their lives more than he had in the past. Especially Ianto’s.

Gwen had been deeply upset by Ianto’s close call and had put up no objections to following Jack’s orders and had subsequently relayed the information she’d gathered to him electronically, so he could review the evidence without having to leave Ianto’s side. 

It was a testament to how deeply the younger man was sleeping that he hadn’t been roused by Jack’s reaction to the images of the insidious threats, written large in red spray paint on the sides of the SUV. What Jack saw wasn’t the product of mindless vandalism, it was maliciously targeted at him and at Ianto, by bigots who had observed the nature of their relationship and evidently disapproved. He was furious that, in spite of so-called equal rights, he was living in a time and place where it was still tacitly acceptable to single out individuals and threaten them, solely on the grounds of the gender of their partner. Jack looked at Ianto and wondered how the hell he could protect him from extra-terrestrial threats while they were under attack from individuals within the community they defended, at risk to their own lives, on a daily basis. Except for the awful irony that his own existence was never in any real danger, unlike that of those he loved.

Jack rubbed his face and wished it was possible to take a holiday from Torchwood – just a few weeks – and take Ianto with him. With shirt sleeves rolled up and his hands resting on his knees, he couldn’t help glancing at his impotent Vortex Manipulator, musing that if it was functional he could just whisk Ianto away for several months and then return in time to make it seem as if they’d merely taken the afternoon off. But where would it stop – months, years? He knew with a certainty that if he ever managed to take Ianto away from Torchwood, he’d never want to bring him back and put him in danger ever again. Maybe when this was all over, he could track down John Hart and see if he could make a deal. The sound of a tapping on the trapdoor above his head distracted Jack from drafting out Faustian negotiations in his mind.

“Oi, Harkness. Need a word with you – we’ve got results.”

Climbing up the ladder and pushing open the entrance hatch, Jack glared at Owen:

“You could have woken him up!”

“I sent texts and you ignored them. I didn’t have many other options. Trust me, this was the last resort and I got the job on the basis that you couldn’t kill me.”

Jack glanced at his phone and saw the icon alerting him to new messages. He’d put it aside once the images had permanently imprinted themselves in his brain. He’d also muted the sound so Ianto wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Do you need to come down and check on Ianto first?”

“Not if he’s sleeping. As long as his breathing sounds are OK and there’s no wheezing he’s best left sleeping it off.” Owen looked past Jack and from what he could see, Ianto was fine, lying on his side and fast asleep. The phrase ‘dead to the world’ came to mind, but even Owen’s subconscious rejected that as inappropriate in the circumstances.

“Just the usual snoring.” Jack gave Ianto one last indulgent look before effortlessly clambering up the ladder into his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What have you got then?” Jack asked as he took his seat at the head of the table in the conference room.

Owen looked at Tosh and prompted her to start. She had her laptop set up and projected a series of three dimensional molecular diagrams on the screen on the end wall as she explained her findings. Owen had suggested she try to keep it straightforward, not that Jack was stupid, far from it, but he sensed that his patience was burning low and they needed him to grasp the importance of their discoveries.

“Right – to keep it simple, in all nine cases, including Ianto, the victims had antibodies in their blood with identical receptor regions. Therefore all were definitely exposed to the same toxin. What’s more, this toxin isn’t on any of our databases or those at the HPA – they’ve come to the same conclusions that I have. But, I have been able to model the antigen structures that would have triggered the production of those specific antibodies.” 

Tosh saw Gwen begin to glaze over, so skipped the part where she’d identified the specific immunoglobulins. 

“It’s like finding footprints on a molecular scale, it gives us an identifying feature to look for. The antigens that triggered the reaction will fit the receptor sites on those antibodies and nothing else will. I’m still working on the sputum samples that Owen collected from the eight at St Helen’s, but so far they’ve all tested positive for molecules complementary in shape to the binding sites on the antibodies-”

“In other words, they’d all inhaled the trigger molecules – just what I suspected.” Owen tried, and failed, not to look smug.

“But not Ianto?” Gwen frowned. She was inadvertently putting into words Jack’s own concerns. She was less concerned about the eight in hospital, only two of whom were still in ICU and more worried about her friend and colleague.

“No – but the swab I took from that cut on his hand had a high level of the antigenic molecules. In a much higher concentration than in the lungs of the other eight-”

“That’s why we think he was affected so rapidly,” Tosh added, looking from Gwen to Jack and sensing their concerns. “If it got onto his skin and was transferred directly into his mouth - the toxin would have been rapidly absorbed through the mucosal lining and into the lymph nodes.”

Jack held up a hand signalling Tosh to be quiet whilst he considered what they knew so far. Pressing a knuckle to his lips as he turned the facts over in his mind, Jack could only come to the conclusion that there were still more questions than answers.

“OK, so what we have is a partial ID on the causative agent, but nothing to match it with, so we’re no closer to knowing if it’s alien or just something as yet unknown. However, if Tosh and her friends at Porton Down are stumped, my money’s on it being of alien origin.” 

Jack waited for Tosh to nod in agreement and then continued. 

“Also the evidence suggests that the eight in St Helens breathed in the toxin and had delayed reactions, whilst Ianto’s reaction was more extreme and faster probably because he touched the source of the toxin itself and then put it straight into his mouth. That can only mean that it was on the eggs-”

“Um… no,” Owen interrupted and shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, Jack, but there’s no trace of the antigens on any of the egg samples you collected from the garage – nothing that shouldn’t be there.”

“Damn – what else could Ianto have cut himself on?” Jack slammed his hands down on the polished wooden surface of the table. “There’s nothing for it - I’ll have to go back and search the garage and SUV– it’s got to be there.”

“I’ll come with you,” Owen offered. “Whatever it is, it can’t hurt me.”

“Anything else – what about you, Gwen? You’ve been very quiet – suspiciously so. What’ve you got?”

Gwen had really been hoping that Jack wouldn’t ask her. She really, really didn’t want to tell him what she’d found out. Not whilst he was in this mood.

“I’ve got names for you. The officers on the beat when you and Ianto were inside the club.” 

Gwen picked up a notebook in which she’d jotted down her findings. She swallowed hard and focused on the pertinent facts.

“Um… I managed to spot them as they walked past the shops on the stores’ own CCTV cameras, got their numbers and got some inside help in putting names to badge numbers. One of them took a call within minutes of you and Ianto entering the club. Then they stopped in their route and turned back in the opposite direction, avoiding that end of Albany Road completely. Then later on, they turned up on the security camera recordings inside the kebab shop, chatting to the bloke behind the counter – they were there a while, having a cup of tea by the looks of it.”

“Did you get a time frame on that?” Jack asked, his brow furrowed as the implications began to sink in.

“Um… well… it seems to coincide with the same time that we estimate the SUV was vandalised. It could be perfectly innocent -”

“Gwen – you know how much store I put in coincidences. Give me their badge numbers and names.” Jack hadn’t got any more leads and he needed to make someone or something pay for what had happened to Ianto and given the choice between a test tube of molecules and a couple of dodgy coppers, he knew which he was best equipped to deal with.

“Jack – what are you planning to do?” Gwen shook her head, knowing exactly what he would want to do and wondering how she could avert certain disaster.

“Get some answers, Gwen. Although we may know what made those people, including Ianto, so ill they could have died, we don’t know who did it, why or how … and I’m sick of waiting here to find out. I want names and patrol schedules. At best they were negligent, at worse they were complicit in what happened. Either way I want answers before anyone else gets hurt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the Torchwood team argued over the wisdom in letting Jack unleash his fury on an unsuspecting pair of policemen, an overlooked, upturned bucket of dirty water had spilt its contents into a drainage gulley that ran the length of the underground garage. 

Soap scum floated on the surface carrying with it tiny scraps of egg shell and cradled inside one, as if travelling in a tiny boat, sat a spiny blue seed, its feathery fronds twisted and wet, no longer up to their function as a dispersal mechanism. But that was of no consequence as the seed came to rest on a narrow ledge just below the drain cover, its delicate eggshell shield preventing it from being washed further into the drains as it adhered to a film of organic residue clinging to the side of the drain. 

The seed coat split open as it absorbed water and essential minerals. The warm temperature of the washing solution catalysed the reactions that resulted in a tiny rootlet poking out of the seed coat and anchoring in the sediment within the drains deep in the heart of Torchwood.


	14. Chapter 14

“Hey there – how’re you feeling?”

“Tired. Thirsty,” mumbled Ianto into the pillow. Opening his eyes, he frowned to see Jack peering over the edge of the bed at him. “Please tell me you didn’t just wake me up to ask how I felt.”

“No-” Jack began to shake his head in denial, but under Ianto’s piercing gaze, he admitted the truth. “Well, yes, I guess I did. I’ll just go fetch you a glass of water.”

Jack sprung to his feet and dashed into the bathroom, leaving Ianto rubbing sleep from his eyes and trying to recollect what had happened that day. He coughed to clear his throat and winced as it felt sore and scratchy. Not only was his mouth dry, he also had the sort of headache he normally associated with a night out with Rhys and his mates. As the blankets slipped off his shoulder, he shivered and a quick peak under the blankets confirmed that he was naked. He could recall Jack helping him out of his shirt and boxers, then he’d just slid under the bedclothes and grabbed hold of a pillow, not waiting for Jack to find anything for him to wear in bed.

“Warm enough?” asked Jack as he sat on the edge of the bed. He helped Ianto sit up, making sure the blankets covered his chest and then shoving pillows behind him so he could take a drink from the glass of water without choking. “Sip it slowly.”

“What time is it?” Ianto asked, wondering just how long he’d been asleep.

“Just after eleven thirty.”

“At night, yes?” Ianto frowned, having lost all track of time. The lack of any natural light didn’t make it any easier to gauge if it was night or day.

“Yes – you’ve been out for a while, but it’s still the same day.” Jack reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from Ianto’s eyes.

“I take it the others have left?” Ianto sincerely hoped that the rest of the team had gone to their respective homes. He wasn’t ready to face any of them yet; although he couldn’t remember much in the way of details, he could tell from the haunted expression on Jack’s face that it had been bad.

“About half an hour ago.”

Jack was glad to see that Ianto was coherent and more alert. He definitely seemed more like himself. Jack had been worried that sending Owen home may have been tempting fate, even though the doctor had assured him that Ianto was well on the road to recovery. 

“Early night then?” muttered Ianto, with a raised eyebrow.

“Gwen threatened to mutiny if she didn’t get to see Rhys before midnight.”

“Why’s that? Was there a risk he’d turn into a pumpkin?” 

“Not that I know of – although I did see one Welshman swell up and change colour earlier, mind you that was blue and not orange, which, for the record, is not a good look on you.” 

The ghost of the fear that had haunted Jack earlier flitted across his countenance, only to be driven away forcibly as Jack attempted to lighten the mood. 

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the orange, shape-shifting hermaphrodite that- ”

“-had tentacles instead of lips?” Ianto held a hand in front of his mouth and waved his fingers about.

“Yeah, that’s the one!” Jack exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Yes. But I don’t think my constitution is up to listening to any of your lurid reminiscences. No tentacle talk please.”

Ianto shuddered at the thought of some of the permutations of tentacles and orifices that Jack had described to him in the past. He’d once had to stop him drawing diagrams on the back of a beer mat in the pub and had thrown the incriminating evidence into open fire conveniently roaring away in the hearth of the pub they’d been drinking in. 

“That’s a pity seeing as Owen said you’d have to stick to soft foods – I was going to feed you noodles or spaghetti.”

“That’s alright. I’m not hungry anyway.” Ianto breathed out slowly as he sunk back into the pillows, although he couldn’t keep from smiling at recollections of the obscene way in which Jack would eat spaghetti. “Have you finished for the night?”

“Nearly - I really should go have another look around the garage, in case there’s something I missed.” 

Jack didn’t want to admit to Ianto that they’d drawn a blank with the egg theory and still had no idea what the source of the toxin was that had nearly killed him. There’d be time enough for that later, for now he just needed to make sure that Ianto was out of danger. 

“Oh, alright. It’s just that-” Ianto frowned, not sure what he was trying to say, feeling awkward at assuming Jack was about to join him in bed. 

“I just wanted to check up on you first.”

“So, you’re not staying then?” Ianto failed to hide the disappointment from his face. The sleep had taken the edge off the exhaustion, but the events of the day had left him more shaken than he wanted to admit to Jack. 

“Why? Did you want me to?” 

Jack took hold of Ianto’s hand in his and gently ran his thumb over the knuckles, feigning nonchalance, but really hoping he’d ask him to stay. He didn’t want Ianto to think he was hovering over him or that he thought he was in any way weak. If anything, the weakness was his own, and it was lying in his bed, looking unsettled and slightly uncomfortable.

“Well, um… not if you’re busy… if you’ve still got things to do. It’s OK, I was just wondering that’s all.” Ianto squeezed Jack’s hand and shrugged, not wanting to come across as needy. “I’ll just-”

“-it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning.” Jack interjected quickly, instantly regretting having given Ianto the impression that he had other pressing matters that were more important than he was.

“Then, the answer’s yes. I would like you to stay… please.” Ianto couldn’t miss the way the corners of Jack’s mouth twitched as he tried hard to suppress a grin. He was relieved that Jack wanted to stay as much as he needed his company.

Jack rolled off the edge of the bed with a broad smile and shed his clothes in a manner akin to a dog shaking water from its coat – quickly and messily. He took more care sliding into the bed next to Ianto, but the force with which the younger man grabbed hold of his upper arms and manoeuvred them both so that Jack was lying on his back, legs pushed apart as Ianto lay between them rolling his hips against Jack’s pelvis, made it abundantly clear that Ianto had no intention of being treated as if he were fragile. Jack understood this – it was about affirmation of life, Ianto had come close to death and he needed to make sure they both appreciated just how alive he still felt. 

This was a role reversal for them as it was usually Jack who’d had a close call with death, if not a personal visitation from the Grim Reaper. But their response was the same either way. Nothing made them feel more alive than getting as physical as possible – hot and sweaty, breathing heavily and aching from unrestrained pounding that made pulses race and blood flow fast. Those indicators of life were the ones that Jack and Ianto put more faith in than the ones that could be measured by any medical instrument.

Despite a nagging feeling that Owen would give them both hell if he knew what they were getting up to, Jack cast aside any doubts the moment Ianto’s lips met his. If his own life was to be infinitely long and Ianto’s tragically foreshortened as a direct consequence of working for him, then it would be criminal to waste the time when they were both naked and in bed together doing anything other than making love as if there were no tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, as the two men lay breathless, caught up in twisted sheets, their sweaty limbs entwined, they were totally oblivious to the change in the weather in the city. Beyond the warm shelter within Jack’s sleeping quarters, a cold wind blew in off the hills to the north, strong gusts were detected by the weather station that automatically stopped water being pumped to the top of the fountain in the Plass. Without the water running down its surface, the mirrored facets reflected revellers scattering as they dashed towards the main road, desperate to catch late night buses. Outside the fake Tourist Information Office, litter swirled around, crisp packets skittering in drunken circles and empty drink cans rattling against one another. Boats tied up alongside the waterfront bounced up and down in the growing swell. 

In the north west of the city, on a rooftop in Albany Road, the last clumps of seeds stubbornly clinging to the remnants of a shrivelled dark purple seed pod were finally dislodged and torn apart as they took flight across the city, buffeted by the strong winds as they spun out of control. Hundreds had already embarked on the maiden voyage, seeking surfaces to colonise high above the streets. These last few may have been tardy in their departure from the dead remains of the parent plant, but they had the advantage of a strong breeze to disperse them far and wide across the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the seeds set forth on their journey across the skyline of Cardiff, their passage went unnoticed by the heavy-set man who stood hunched up against the cold outside the club in the street below. His eyes were downcast, focussing on the drifting litter that was accumulating in the doorway, everything from empty cigarette packets to discarded polystyrene chip trays. He checked his mobile once more and sent off a quick text message. 

It had been a quiet night, a private party and they’d all left, so he had no valid reason to be hanging around outside, especially as that tramp that used to doss down in their doorway had died earlier on in hospital, well at least that’s what the bloke in the kebab shop had told him. Just as he was about to head back into the warmth of the club foyer, he spotted the police car turning at the lights. He shuffled his feet awkwardly waiting for it to pull up on the pavement, then darted across as a window scrolled down and a hand beckoned him over. Ducking his head inside the car he listened carefully and surreptitiously took a thin white envelope, which he slid into the inside pocket of his jacket. Then he stepped back onto the pavement and wished the two officers a good night as they drove off, the wheels of their patrol car crushing a cluster of strange, feathery seeds that had collected in a puddle by the kerb. A few dozen more became lodged in the tyre tread and were whisked away into the night.


	15. Chapter 15

Gwen stormed out of Jack’s office, zipping up her leather jacket angrily, swearing to herself. Glancing back over her shoulder, briefly considering going back to give him a piece of her mind, she was suddenly brought to a halt as she collided with someone who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“What has he done now?”

“Oh, Ianto! I didn’t see you there.” 

She had to admit, Owen was right, Ianto did need a collar and bell. Gwen couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t wearing a tie, other than that he was wearing a suit as usual, as if he hadn’t come close to death the day before. Gwen wondered if that was a trait of Jack’s that was rubbing off on him, shaking off near death experiences as if they were just routine upsets, if so it wasn’t a healthy one, not for someone who could die.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart? How’s your throat?”

“Much better, thank you. Jack’s been very attentive… he even cooked me scrambled eggs for breakfast.” Ianto smiled slightly, not willing to impart anything else about Jack’s care regime. He shyly ducked his head down to hide the smirk on his face before raising it slowly and narrowing his eyes as he gave Gwen an appraising look. 

“So,” drawled Ianto. “What’s he done to piss you off this time?”

Gwen should have known better than to try to distract Ianto with enquiries about his state of health. As it was, she was on the cusp of confessing all and hoping their friendship would prove strong enough for him to forgive her the deception and secrecy. But she remembered the advice that Rhys had given her when she’d broached the issue with him. Even though she hadn’t given him any details, his reaction had been that it was for Jack to be honest with Ianto and that she shouldn’t interfere. Rhys had been right of course; she’d just failed epically in one last attempt to persuade Jack to discuss his suspicions with the rest of the team and especially with Ianto. He may have had more experience at leadership than she had, but his insistence on dealing with matters in his own inimitable manner, devoid of diplomacy, infuriated her. 

“Gwen?” Ianto waved his hand in front of Gwen’s face to get her attention. She’d been standing there chewing her lip as if desperately trying to tell him everything without saying a word. “It must be bad if you’re speechless. Maybe if I just ask a few questions and you just nod or shake your head, that way you won’t have to say anything. How about that?”

Gwen enthusiastically nodded her head. Trust Ianto to figure out a way of allowing her to relieve her burden without totally betraying Jack’s faith in her. She knew it would be better if Ianto knew what Jack was up to, she just hoped that Jack would see it that way.

“OK – I take it this is something to do with your designated role as police liaison for Torchwood?”

Gwen nodded slowly and her eyes widened. 

“Would it, perhaps, have something to do with procedures concerning the apprehending of certain Torchwood personnel?”

Ianto nodded at the same time as Gwen did, he’d already figured out as much. It didn’t surprise him, although he was slightly put out that Jack had enlisted Gwen’s assistance, no doubt realising that he would have put a stop to it if he had found out what he was up to. He fought the urge to roll his eyes and focused on Gwen.

“And would I be right in thinking that perhaps the leader of Torchwood was intent on pursuing non-standard avenues of complaint? The sort of actions that create more paperwork than the perpetrator claims they save?”

Gwen’s shoulders slumped as the tension left her and she sighed with relief. Without saying a word to Ianto, he’d worked out what Jack was up to. 

Ianto took a deep breath and breathed out slowly, deciding to bide his time and not act rashly. It wouldn’t do to behave as impetuously as Jack. One of them needed to maintain a level head and apparently that wasn’t going to be Jack.

“Coffee?”

“I’d love one.”

It occurred to Ianto later on that he should have just barrelled into Jack’s office and had it out with him there and then. They would have shouted at each other, papers would have been thrown from the desk and, if Jack was feeling particularly petulant, chairs may have been sent flying. But there wouldn’t have been any bloodshed, and definitely no death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack had got the details he demanded from Gwen – the badge numbers and work rotas for the men involved. She had tried to dissuade him from his course of action, but he’d made it perfectly clear that he was going to deal with this in his way and that he’d rather she kept her opinions to herself. Gwen had been stubborn and refused to say who her informant was, but he’d followed her that morning and seen her meet up with her previous colleague, Andy Davidson, in the tiny café he knew was her favourite rendezvous site. He felt sorry for the poor guy, he was obviously infatuated with Gwen and would do anything for her. Jack could sympathise, he’d also found himself letting Gwen get away with behaviour he’d never tolerate from anyone else on his team, even Ianto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the vantage point of his office, Jack watched as Ianto offered his arm to Gwen and escorted her to his coffee making station. It looked as though he’d spotted the fact that she was annoyed and was doing his usual expert job in placating her. Jack smiled as he imagined Ianto resorting to chocolate biscuits and a mug of intensely flavoured mocha to take the edge of Gwen’s anger. To a casual observer they had such different personalities, yet Jack had scratched beneath the surface of each and found, to his delight, similar fiery tempers and put it down to the passionate Celtic blood flowing through their veins.

The Hub was quiet, apart from the soft lilting voices of Gwen and Ianto discussing the merits of good quality chocolate, as Jack quietly slipped out of the Hub. Owen and Tosh were busy scouring the garage for traces of anything foreign or alien. They’d convinced him that as long as they both wore Hazmat suits and underwent full decontamination before re-entering the Hub, that it was a better idea for them to search than him as they had more patience than he did. He couldn’t argue with the fact that Tosh had a far more methodical approach than he would ever have. Again, Jack smiled, he was glad to see Owen and Tosh working so well together, professionally and personally. 

There were ways of exiting the Hub silently and without detection that only Jack knew of, although he suspected that Ianto’s studies of plans and blueprints down in the archives had allowed him to make discoveries that he was keeping close to his chest. 

A quick glance at his watch and Jack knew he’d have time to get where he wanted to by foot. He couldn’t take the SUV, partly because Tosh and Owen were still scrutinising it and partly because he wanted to keep a low profile. With any luck he’d be able to call in later, tell Ianto he was dealing with a weevil sighting and meet up for a late supper without anyone being any the wiser to his actions.

But luck was something that Jack really shouldn’t have counted on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto had been irritated when he went to deliver a mug of coffee to Jack’s office to find its usual occupant missing. A post-it, on top of a strange looking box, informed Ianto that he’d gone out weevil hunting to get some fresh air. Ianto shook his head despairingly, anyone else’s significant other might go shopping or drinking to release tension, his either stood atop high rooftops or went out to wrestle with vicious aliens. There was no time on the note, which meant that Jack was out for the duration. He sighed wearily and tidied the paperwork before taking away the unwanted cup of coffee. 

Any thoughts of hunting down Jack were put to one side as Owen and Tosh alerted him to the fact that they’d finished in the garage and were in need of assistance with their respective decontamination procedures. They had stood in the decon showers to sluice off any organic matter from the surfaces of the Hazmat suits they wore and had placed the samples into sealed containers. 

Although they could have then got out of the suits themselves, it was easier to remove the bulky outfits if someone else unfastened the seals and disconnected the breathing apparatus from the one that Tosh was wearing. Ianto helped Owen – even though the doctor wasn’t personally at risk from anaphylaxis, they’d collectively agreed that it would be foolish to take a chance on him carrying the toxin back into the Hub. Owen cursed as Ianto helped him out of his fluorescent orange suit and argued vociferously that all it had achieved was to make him even clumsier than usual. 

Gwen gave Tosh a hand and held out a towel to preserve her modesty until she could get dressed without exposing herself to either of the men, which she realised was slightly hypocritical as they’d both taken delight in any stolen glances of their male colleagues in various states of undress.

By the time that Ianto had made coffee and they’d gathered in the board room to share findings, it was once again apparent that Jack had yet to return from his so-called weevil hunt.

“I thought that was just a euphemism for him to take you somewhere remote in the SUV and shag you senseless?” 

“So did I,” replied Ianto.

“Well, if he’d have waited he could’ve taken the SUV – and you,” stated Owen. “It’s clear. Nothing on it at all.”

“What?” Ianto was taken aback, he’d been hoping for answers.

“It’s true – you’d cleaned it to your usual standards, Ianto, there was no trace of anything left on the bodywork.” Tosh shrugged almost apologetically.

“If there was nothing on it, what was it that got to Ianto?” Gwen grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand and twisted it palm up to draw attention to the dressing on his hand, the only visible reminder of the events of the previous day. Something had hurt Ianto and she was no happier with that than Jack had been.

“Maybe it dissolved or decomposed once it broke through the skin?” ventured Tosh.

“Perhaps it’s still inside him, swimming around in his arteries,” Owen suggested facetiously and then regretted it as Ianto paled instantly. “Just kidding.”

“So… nothing on the SUV. That’s good in a way, I suppose.” Ianto run a finger around the rim of his cup of coffee, relieved that at least none of his friends were at risk of suffering what he’d gone through.

“You probably scrubbed away any evidence there was on it, ironically – but Tosh is analysing the dregs in that bucket you were using.” 

“It’s possible that there are residues left in there or maybe on the cloth.” Tosh tried to sound optimistic. “I’ve got the extractions running now. We’ve still got results to work through from the samples Owen collected at the hospital. They may give us some clues.”

“Well, in Jack’s absence, I suggest that Tosh and Owen continue with the lab work and I’ll check up on the latest prognoses for those still in the hospital,” declared Gwen, assuming the role of second in command automatically. 

“Suits me, beats watching you bastards drink hot beverages and stuff your faces with cake.” Owen gazed longingly at the remains of the lemon drizzle cake that Gwen had brought in with her – apparently Rhys was a dab hand at baking. 

Waiting for Owen to leave the boardroom, Tosh drank the last of her coffee and guiltily dabbed the crumbs from her lips with a serviette, before following him.

Gwen looked at Ianto and saw him close his eyes and sigh wearily. 

“Maybe you should go home, get some rest, Ianto – after yesterday and all.”

“No, Gwen. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Jack.”

“But Ianto, sweetheart, you look knackered-”

“Gwen, stop it. Just tell me where the hell Jack has gone. I know that you know.”


	16. Chapter 16

“Come on, Gwen – where the hell is he?” Ianto’s voice was dangerously quiet. 

“Didn’t he leave a message?” Gwen pointed at the mobile phone that Ianto had been staring at, on and off throughout their meeting. “Weevil in Grangetown wasn’t it?” 

“Yep - a text saying he was tackling a weevil in Clive Street, about an hour ago.” Ianto picked up the phone as if it had offended him personally and checked once more, in vain, to see if there’d been any more messages since then.

“There you go, like I said, he’s weevil-bashing.” Gwen put on what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“Really? How do you think he was going to bring it back? Hoist it over his shoulder and walk through Cardiff in broad daylight with it? The bus? Taxi maybe? Or perhaps just book it in at a nice guesthouse until we could go fetch it later?”

Ianto was uncomfortably aware that his voice was getting more and more shrill, and he was worried that he was coming across as more hysterical than sarcastic. Gwen’s hand patting his arm, in her most patronising of ways, confirmed that he had, indeed, crossed that particular line. He took a deep breath and allowed her to practise her placating skills on him. 

“Ianto, sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me, please.” 

Gwen had sat down next to Ianto and taken hold of both of his hands, wanting to do whatever she could to reduce the tension she felt emanating from him as he sat there, silently fuming.

“Now you and I both know it’s not exactly out of the ordinary for Jack to piss off and take out his aggression on a few unfortunate weevils. I had my reservations about that when I first joined Torchwood, but surely it’s better that he does that than mooch around here making everyone else’s life a bloody misery, isn’t it, love?”

Ianto sighed heavily. Of course, it wouldn’t normally be an issue, aside from the stains and tears in the coat that needed attention, but knowing that Jack was seriously considering dealing with the rogue elements of the police single-handed did nothing but elevate his levels of anxiety.

“Except he’s not out subduing the weevil population of Grangetown, is he Gwen?”

Gwen shrugged and bit her bottom lip. Ianto had that look on his face, the one that made it clear he wasn’t taking any more shit. The look he gave when he knew someone had touched his coffee machine and broken it. The look he gave Jack when he duct-taped a CB aerial to the wing mirror of the SUV that time. The sort of look that she knew would reveal all.

“I texted him back, offering to meet him and got no reply.” Ianto didn’t bother explaining to Gwen that on the occasions when Jack did go solo weevil hunting, he was usually more than grateful for a hand dealing with the clean up, not to mention the excess adrenaline. “Let’s face it – there’s a strong probability that he’s got himself in trouble and I suspect you could point me in the right direction.”

“Ianto, if he knows I told you-” Gwen could only too easily imagine Jack’s reaction if anything happened to Ianto as a consequence of her divulging his destination and intentions. Jack was determined to deal with this on his own, although she hadn’t expected him to slip out quite so sneakily. 

“I’ll take whatever flak he wants to throw around- once I’ve finished with him. I know he’s not in Grangetown, Gwen. Come on, spit it out – where was he heading?”

“It’s possible he could be in the Albany Road area –”

“Bloody hell! Not that club again?” Ianto slammed his fist down onto the boardroom table making the cups rattle and the spiky sculptures wobble precariously.

“No, no, love. I don’t think so.” Gwen shook her head quickly, wanting to do whatever she could to remove that look of sheer panic from the face of her friend. “Jack asked me to find out where and when those police officers were next on foot patrol, It was this evening, so I think that might be where he was going– he mentioned tracking them down and persuading them to tell him what they knew.”

“Which coppers?” Ianto had been running his hand through his hair, but stopped and then fixed Gwen with a worried look. “Not the ones that arrested me?”

“The ones that should have been around when the SUV got vandalised but mysteriously took a detour for the time taken for it to be wheel clamped and trashed,” Gwen tried to tiptoe around the nasty truth that she had been trying for days to avoid. “And yes - their shoulder numbers also match those of two of the constables involved in your arrest.”

“Oh, this gets better by the minute! So instead of going about this using official, well established protocol, Jack’s plan is to leap out at them on the street and scare the shit out of them until they confess all? That is so not going to work.” 

Ianto stood up and rubbed a hand over his face, subconsciously noting the slight stubble that reminded him of just how long a day it had been already. He gave Gwen a grim smile and then turned on his heel and headed down the corridor towards the central area with a determined stride. 

“That bloody man – I’m tempted to kill him myself. Right then, the SUV is safe now, I’m going to see if I can find him before he gets himself arrested, or worse.”

Gwen dashed after him and grabbed his arm to slow him down, but was unsuccessful.

“Ianto – you’re in no state to drive! I’m not letting you do this!” Gwen pointed out desperately trying to come up with some way of averting certain disaster. 

“Fine, you can drive then.” Ianto paused and put his hands on his hips as he turned to face Gwen. “I was going to suggest it anyway, so that I concentrate on tracking the bastard down. I’ll just get the keys off Owen and see you there.” 

Gwen fumed as she made her way towards the garage. Passing the autopsy bay, she overheard Ianto mildly informing Owen and Tosh that they were just popping out to fetch Jack, as if he were an errant child that had stayed out past his bedtime. There were times when she wondered which one of them was the most stubborn and pigheaded, and then sighed as she realised that she could give them both a run for their money on those two fronts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Ianto pulled the seat belt over his shoulder, he looked to his right towards the steering wheel and shuddered slightly as he recalled collapsing over it. He was brought out of the memory as Gwen grabbed hold of the wheel in a white-knuckled grip as she quickly turned the key in the ignition. Ianto opened the tracking program on the dashboard computer interface, initiated the search for Jack’s mobile and did his best to block out the sounds of Gwen muttering about bloody automatics. 

The SUV lurched into reverse as Gwen released the hand brake and then shot forward as she drove like a madwoman towards the exit. Ianto wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that she was evidently just as concerned as he was. The fact that she’d taken a diversion via the armoury on the way to the garage and made sure they were both armed was as reassuring as it was frightening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Both Ianto and Gwen were too worried about Jack for either of them to notice a pale blue tendril poking up through the grating on the drain. Even with the catalytic converter, the exhaust fumes that belched from the rear end of the SUV contained enough carbon monoxide to serve the needs of the small plant as it opened its pores to take in the gases it needed for its autotrophic nutrition. Unlike the photosynthetic machinery of the native flora of Earth, this plant was quite adept at using any gaseous carbon-based molecules for synthesising organic compounds. Its stored lipids had allowed it to germinate and although it had struggled in the poor light levels, there had been sufficient methane produced by the anaerobic bacteria in the drains to give it a boost and it was now strong enough to grow upwards towards the artificial light that flooded the underground garage. A coiled leaflet unfurled, as if lifting a weary head upwards, to bask in the halogen lighting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack lifted his head gingerly, touching trembling fingers to his lip which smarted badly. His fingers came away sticky with warm blood. He spat a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the dirty pavement. He couldn’t believe that he'd been stupid enough to get ambushed – following the two policemen into the alleyway and then finding himself cut off from behind. His assailants had been wearing dark clothing and balaclavas, concealing their identities, and the policemen he’d been following had disappeared into the night as if they’d never been there. His attackers had pushed him further and further down the alley, out of sight from the street. Jack was outnumbered and unarmed – his gun had been removed from its holster and tossed aside when he’d been shoved to the ground and held down in a filthy puddle. 

The group of men circled around, making it hard to keep track of where the next attack would come from. In the dark it was hard to discern just how many there were, but Jack though there were probably about six of them. It wasn’t until he raised himself up onto his hands and knees that they moved in again, unleashing yet another round of punishing kicks and blows. A steel-capped boot made contact with his ribs, the telltale cracking sound and sharp stabbing pain down his left side causing him to collapse to the ground once more. The intensity of the pain radiating out across his chest momentarily took his mind off the aching in his lower back and the nausea curdling in his guts from repeated, brutal punches to his stomach. 

Then out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of something metallic, a dark shape catching the meagre light that reached this far. He reached out desperately for his Webley and just as his fingertips brushed the end of the barrel, a boot came stamping down on his hand, crushing the bones before kicking the gun out of reach. Jack screamed out in agony as his fingers were broken and curled up automatically, his body reflexively assuming a foetal position to minimise any further damage, even though he knew there was no point.

Jeering laughter and taunts echoed between the brick walls, coarse voices gloating over Jack’s broken body. Then through the cacophony of vile insults he heard the scraping sound of metal on concrete. Eventually the snapped off section of rusty exhaust pipe entered his field of vision before it was swung up into the air. Before his brain had chance to register what was coming next, agonising pain exploded within his skull, obliterating all other thoughts and feelings. 

Jack wasn’t really sure what happened next, darkness was taking hold of him, its grabby fingers dragging him relentlessly away from the alleyway. He felt almost as if the ground was giving way beneath him letting him plunge downwards into oblivion. It was if all the sounds surrounding him were silenced, or at least muffled, all bar one – the unmistakable sound of the safety being released on a hand gun.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for homophobic language - but these are the bad guys and there will be retribution.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two narrow beams of torchlight flickered across Jack’s prone body and then up at the man standing above him, metal pipe held high in the air, ready to strike once more. The attacker lifted his free arm up to shield his eyes from being dazzled by the brilliant white light. As his eyes grew accustomed to the sudden influx of light he could make out two shadowy figures, each with arms held straight out in front, holding both automatic handgun and torch in clasped hands, with all the poise of those well-versed in armed combat. One wore a long knee length coat, the other a shorter jacket. Both were standing steady, taking aim at the man who held a rusty exhaust pipe over his head.

“Get away from him,” growled a deep voice, heavily accented. 

“We’re armed – you’ve been warned. Drop that weapon and put your hands above your head or we will shoot.” The assailant heard a female’s voice, also with a strong Welsh accent, issuing a caution, something not necessarily appreciated by her colleague who swore under his breath. He figured a caution meant they weren’t seriously intending to fire.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’. You ain’t got the guts to shoot.” 

The man laughed out loud as he swung the pipe over his head once more, intent on caving in the skull of his victim. A shot rung out and the pipe fell, clattering to the ground, as the man screamed out in pain.

“Shit! You tryin’ to kill me, you fuckin’ wanker?” 

“If I was, you’d be dead by now.” 

Doubled over, clutching his arm, trying to stem the warm flow of blood that was quickly soaking through the sleeve of his jacket, the wounded thug was surprised to hear the woman whispering urgently to the man who’d shot him, as if trying to reign him in. He detected a weakness – she wasn’t happy that her partner was so trigger happy. There was still a chance, so he turned to his five mates, who were standing back as if taking stock of the situation and hissed at them:

“Get ’em!”

“One step closer to him, or to us, from any of you and you’ll regret it.”

Another shot rang out down the alleyway as a bullet was fired over the heads of the gang of thugs, effectively halting their advance. 

“You’re fuckin’ mental!” one of the men called out, but the tremble in his voice gave away his fear. As did the sound of his boots on the pavement as he ran from the scene as fast as he could.

“Yes, you’ve got that right – he is fucking mad and if you want to make it out of here without needing a visit to A&E I suggest you piss off now!” 

Gwen yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping that the gang would make good their escape, because she had a feeling that Ianto would keep shooting otherwise, regardless of her concerns.

As the scattered group of men turned tail and ran, Gwen lowered her gun and dashed across to where Jack lay groaning. The man that Ianto had shot remained behind, leaning against the wall, looking on disdainfully as Gwen examined Jack’s injuries.

“He fuckin’ deserved what he got! Torchwood tosser.” The loan attacker spat out, staring at Ianto. He could recognise the man as he walked closer to where he was standing. “I know you – you’re his boyfriend aren’t you? We’re not scared of you lot – you’ll pay for this, you dirty arse bandit.” 

“Really?” Ianto put the safety on his gun, tucked it away in his belt and then walked with determination past Gwen and Jack. He’d recognised this man’s voice and there was no way he was going to let this go, no matter what Gwen said.

“Ianto! Don’t -” Gwen warned urgently. 

Ianto shook his head apologetically in Gwen’s direction before roughly grabbing hold of the man by the collar of his coat and shoving his face against the brick wall. Holding the thug in place with one hand around his neck, he took hold of the injured arm and twisted it back, bending it sharply at the elbow and wrenching the shoulder, eliciting a blood-curdling cry of pain.

Gwen moved to get up and would have stopped Ianto, if it were not for the fact that Jack had weakly reached out for her hand. Looking down at him, their eyes met and she could see tears there, whether from pain or remorse, it was hard to tell, but she decided that whatever Ianto was going to do to the bastard who had hurt Jack, was his prerogative and she would do nothing to interfere.

“You’re a bully and a coward and I know who you are.” Ianto spoke quietly, not wanting Gwen to hear the threats he was making, he suspected that she wouldn’t approve. “You’ve pissed me off one time too many and if I were you, I’d be scared now. I can make things happen – I can transfer stuff onto any device you own that’ll guarantee you a prison sentence and you know the sort of treatment they save for those guilty of having kiddie porn - don’t you?”

The club bouncer tried to struggle, but Ianto was stronger than he looked and wasn’t letting him move an inch. 

“I take it that was a ‘yes’. Now, you’re getting to get your arse out of here. I’ll give you until tomorrow afternoon to be out of Cardiff. Then I’ll start uploading those files. Understood?”

Ianto squeezed his fingers into the bloody fabric sticking to the bullet wound and waited until the thug nodded his head before letting go.

“That’s good, glad we understand each other. Now piss off and don’t turn back.” 

As Ianto released the homophobic wretch he wiped his hands on his dark grey overcoat, not wanting to sully his hands with the man’s blood any longer than necessary. He watched on as the man stumbled away, swearing as he tripped over the abandoned boxes and litter strewn along the darkened alley way.

“Gwen – not sure what it’s worth- but get in touch with the police and explain that the gunshots were to do with a Torchwood investigation and that we have it under control.”

Gwen sighed as she heard the tone of resignation in Ianto’s voice. He’d been tired enough before they’d left the Hub that evening. She couldn’t imagine how he felt now.

“What about Jack?”

“I’ll stay here with him, you get back to the SUV and call from there. Park at the end of the alleyway and we’ll join you once he’s … you know.”

Neither of them wanted to say that Jack’s injuries looked bad enough to be near fatal. There was no point calling for medical aid, it would waste precious time and resources for the emergency services and if they did call out Owen, chances were that Jack would be on the road to recovery before he found them.

“OK, sweetheart – you be alright here?”

“Yeah – lock yourself in the SUV though. Just in case any of those bastards find the guts to come back for more.”

“What about you?”

“Still armed, Gwen and if any of them does return I won’t hesitate to shoot – OK?”

“Yes, Ianto – you do whatever you have to if it keeps you and Jack safe.” Gwen took a quick look at Ianto and then hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. She needed to let him know that despite what he may have been thinking, she supported him.

“He’ll mend from those injuries, won’t he?”

“I… yes, yes, he’ll mend from them.” 

Ianto didn’t want to tell Gwen what he’d spotted in the torchlight – the indentation to the side of Jack’s skull was deep and wasn’t the type of injury he was usually able to make a speedy recovery from. But if he died, then Ianto would be with him. Gwen didn’t have to worry about that– he needed for her to be safe in the SUV. 

“Ianto… you sure about this?”

“Just go, Gwen.”

Waiting until he heard Gwen running back to the SUV and the door shutting, signifying that she was safe, Ianto sat down on the ground next to Jack and lifted his head carefully into his lap.

Jack’s eyes focused on some point just above and beyond Ianto’s face before he blinked slowly and tried to fix Ianto in his gaze.

“’nto … wha’ …”

“Save your breath and don’t you fucking dare die on me just yet. I need to have words with you and I can’t if you’re dead.”

“Sorry…” Jack’s eyelids fluttered shut as fought to stay conscious.

“Don’t you dare – Jack! Don’t fucking die – don’t! Please, don’t …” Ianto felt like shaking the heavy body of his lover violently. He wanted him to look up with a grin and a wink, he didn’t want to see bloodied drool trickle from the corner of Jack's mouth as his head flopped to one side.

Ianto could see from the slow rise and fall of Jack’s chest that he wasn’t dead – not yet. A small dark spot appeared on an unstained patch of pale blue shirt and then another. He frowned, although there were tears slowly coursing down his face, running down the curve of his nose, he knew they weren’t falling on Jack’s shirt. Then a flash of light and a crack of thunder rent the air as the skies opened and a deluge of raindrops came spattering down, quickly soaking Ianto as he leaned over Jack trying to protect him from the icy cold rain.

Eventually, the moment came when the shallow breaths stopped entirely, and Jack’s body went completely limp. Ianto was shivering so much that he was only just aware of the point when Jack died in his arms.

It was probably less than half an hour, but felt like eternity, when Ianto’s arms were grabbed hold of in a vice-like grip as Jack lurched up, gasping frantically and gulping down lungsful of cold, damp air. 

Jack was on the verge of panicking, he felt as if he was surfacing back into the land of the living, like a drowning man suddenly pulled out of the sea. Grasping blindly, he grabbed hold of the strong arms that cradled him. Ianto. He’d know that embrace anywhere. Sighing with relief, his next instinct was to shudder, he was freezing cold and the man he was holding onto felt just as cold and wet. Turning in Ianto’s arms, Jack gazed up into his face. Although it was dark, he could make out strands of hair plastered to the younger man’s brow. He looked soaked through, which didn’t make sense. It had been dry that night. 

“Ianto?”

“Alive again? Thank fuck for that – let’s get you back to the SUV, before we both die of hypothermia.”

Ianto loosened his hold on Jack and then hauled him up from the ground and pulled one of Jack’s arms over a broad shoulder, before dragging him towards the street. The SUV was waiting there, Gwen sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at the mouth of the alleyway, her eyes wide and her expression unreadable. 

At a signal from Ianto, the doors clicked as the locking mechanism was released and Gwen leapt out of the vehicle to help him with Jack.

“Heated seats please, Gwen – it’s fucking freezing out here.”

“They’re already on, Ianto.”

“Good. I’ll-”

“My gun – did either of you pick it up-” Jack interrupted as Ianto helped him into the back seat.

“Gwen?”

“No, I didn’t-”

“Stay here with him,” muttered Ianto, wearily. “I’ll go back and look for it.”

“Ianto, you OK?” Jack was worried. In the lit interior of the SUV he could see how red Ianto’s eyes and nose were and the pained expression on his face. He looked as though he’d been crying and his voice was hoarse again.

“I’m just fine. Soaked through and stinking of dog shit, vomit and urine – but otherwise fine.”

Ianto slammed the door shut on Jack and jogged back down the alleyway, taking the precaution of having his gun at the ready.

“Gwen, I told you not to say anything to him -” Jack hissed at Gwen as she got back into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t you dare blame this on me!” Gwen turned around to glare at Jack.

“I didn’t want him to know. I knew he’d be upset-”

“Upset? He’s in pieces, you fucking moron! He’s been sitting down there, holding you in a bloody storm for the past hour waiting for you to heal-”

“Heal?” Jack was confused. “But, Gwen, I died.”

“Oh, that’s just fucking brilliant – that means he’s been sitting with you dying in his arms for at least an hour.” 

Gwen had kept in touch via her comm with Ianto during his vigil yet had taken him at his word that he was alright and that it was just rain. She was as angry with herself as she was with Jack, she should have gone to him and insisted that they just carry Jack back to the SUV. Gwen couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Ianto sitting there all that time, waiting for Jack to die. 

“Guess that explains the door slamming.” Jack knew that Ianto hated the SUV doors being slammed unnecessarily – he claimed it damaged the hinges.

“And you wonder why he’s a bit upset? If I was him, I’d’ve bloody shot you as soon as you came around.”

“Was it really an hour?” Jack recalled blacking out and had just assumed that was it and that he’d then revived shortly after. It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d not died immediately. 

“You had head injuries –” 

“Didn’t feel that long to me. I remember Ianto telling me not to die and then I came back and grabbed hold of him. I thought-”

“Really? You thought?” Gwen’s eyebrows shot up as she stared at Jack with incredulity. Then she caught sight of Ianto running back towards them. “Shut up- he’s coming back.”

Jack sunk back into the leather upholstery grateful for the heat that was slowly seeping through. There were aches in every part of his body and his head was throbbing. But the pain in his chest had nothing to do with the physical beating he’d endured. The passenger door was wrenched open and Ianto leaned over the seat to hand over two objects at Jack.

“Your Webley and your phone, both battered but otherwise intact. A bit like you, sir.”

“Thank you.” Jack took the items that Ianto passed back to him. He tried to take hold of Ianto’s hand, but the younger man had ducked down to grab hold of a roll of plastic rubbish bags from under the seat.

“Right then, Gwen, why don’t you drive straight back to your flat first, it’s late and Rhys will be worried.” Ianto was shrugging out of his dirty, wet overcoat and bundling it up before placing it into one of the large plastic bags. He tied the bag off before throwing it in the back and buckling up his seat belt. “Then I’ll drive back to the Hub, drop off Jack and then get myself home.”

“Do I get any say in this?” Jack asked, wondering where everything had gone so badly wrong.

“No,” snapped Ianto. “I suggest you just keep quiet until you can think up a good reason why we should ever speak to you again.”


	18. Chapter 18

Jack sat in the back of the SUV, sullenly staring out of the side window rather than attempting to talk to the other two occupants, who’d both made it perfectly clear that they were exceptionally pissed off with him and not in the mood for conversation.

Inspecting the assorted rips in the fabric of his coat and the miscellany of stains that showed up under the glare of the streetlights, he sighed quietly and silently conceded that they had a point. He was just profoundly grateful that neither of them had been hurt by the gang that had ambushed him, luckily, they’d proved to be more capable of looking after themselves than he’d given them credit for. 

As soon as they got to Gwen’s street and she’d switched off the engine, Ianto got out and opened her door, offering his arm to chivalrously accompany her to the entrance of her apartment block. Jack felt envious of their comfortable friendship, which operated smoothly with no words spoken and no gestures misunderstood. He was also hurt that Gwen didn’t so much as say goodbye to him, yet he could see, through the rain spattered windscreen, that she was pulling Ianto in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek as they stood on the threshold of the building, no doubt waiting for Rhys to answer the intercom to let her into the building. Jack was feeling monumentally sorry for himself, jealous of Gwen’s cosy married life with Rhys and her easy relationship with his lover. 

His mind made up, Jack seized the moment and had taken the driver’s seat before Ianto was half way back to the SUV. He took the keys out of the ignition just in time to hold onto them tightly, refusing to relinquish them as Ianto angrily wrenched open the door, holding out his hand demanding their return.

“Give me those keys now! What the hell do think you’re doing, Jack? You’re not really thinking of driving, are you?”

“Why not?” Jack shrugged insouciantly.

“Oh, let’s think – how about the fact that you were dead not half an hour ago, and I’d really like to get home in one piece tonight?” Ianto gripped the top of the door firmly, trying to ignore the rain that was steadily falling once more.

“You think you’re in a better state to drive than me?” Jack challenged, pointing at Ianto meaningfully. “Ianto, you’re half asleep on your feet – and don’t lie to me. If you let go of that door I bet you’d fall flat on your face.”

Ianto scowled at Jack, pissed off on a number of counts, first of all, Jack had taken control of the SUV, secondly he had picked up on the fact that Ianto was totally exhausted and lastly, he’d been tricked into speaking to Jack again, having been determined to give him the silent treatment at least until he’d dropped him off at the Hub. 

“Come on Jack, give me the keys.” Ianto tried to coax Jack into cooperating. “The sooner we get you back to the Hub the sooner I get to go home.”

“Why don’t I just take you to your place first?” 

“Because…” Ianto bit his lip, infuriated that he couldn’t think of a decent argument. It was late and he really was feeling shattered.

“Get in, before you fall over.” 

The slamming shut of two car doors in close succession reverberated through Jack’s skull, but the sound of Ianto grumbling as he got back into the passenger seat almost made it worthwhile. It wouldn’t have surprised Jack if he’d have stormed off and hailed a taxi. Thankful that there was still a remote possibility of making amends in some way, Jack made a point of driving more carefully than he normally did, not wanting to admit that his vision was still slightly blurred, and a road traffic accident probably wouldn’t do much to improve Ianto’s mood.

“So, you really do want to go home, then? You weren’t just saying that for Gwen’s sake?” Jack glanced across nervously at Ianto. Usually he’d keep Jack company for the night if he’d died and the fact that he was set on going back to his house was a clear indicator of just how angry he was with Jack. That and the way he was sitting, with his legs pulled as far away from Jack as possible, so there could be no ‘accidental’ contact made.

“Why? Did you want me to come back into work, sir?” Ianto’s voice was clipped and sounded as if he was having difficulty remaining civil. “Because if you do, I’d appreciate the opportunity to get into some dry clothes first. Sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’,” growled Jack, refusing to be drawn into the argument that seemed to be brewing between them. “And no, of course I don’t expect you to return to work at this time of night. I was kinda hoping for your company, that and the chance to talk.”

“Company? That would imply a relationship of some kind, the sort of thing where one person confides in the other – you know, tells them what they’re up to, what they’re planning-”

“I know you’re angry with me-”

“Angry? That doesn’t start to describe it – you were having the shit beaten out of you by a gang of mindless thugs in a stinking alleyway.” Ianto sighed heavily with evident exasperation. “I would have shot the lot of them dead, you know? Every single one of them, it was only because Gwen was with me that I didn’t.” 

Jack’s eyes widened, he knew that wherever possible Ianto avoided using lethal force and the fact that he’d got that close to shooting dead six men that evening suddenly hit him very hard.

“I’d have been OK – you do know that don’t you?” Jack reached out to put his hand on Ianto's shoulder, glad that his gesture was not rejected. “Not that I’m not grateful that you were there. But it’s not like they could’ve actually killed me permanently.”

“That doesn’t matter,” snapped Ianto. “I still watched you die. I felt your last breath on my hand. I sat there as you groaned in agony with the slightest shift of your body, so I daren't move a muscle … and it doesn’t fucking matter that you come back, you still die.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise.” Ianto’s voice was deceptively calm. “Not yet. You can wait until you’ve heard everything I have to say.”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.” 

“Well, you managed to give me good reason to speak to you. I need to tell you exactly why I’m so bloody angry with you and I can’t do that via mime. Actually- you know what? I probably could, but I suspect your head’s taken enough of a bashing for one day.”

“Oh.” 

“It’ll wait anyway, we’re near enough to my street now. You can just drop me off at the corner here –”

“No way,” Jack shook his head vehemently. After the assault launched on him, there was no way he was just dropping Ianto off in the middle of the night on a street corner. “I’m taking you to your door.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Tosh?” Owen called out. He chuckled to himself as he looked at the text message he’d received with no small amount of amusement. “Reckon we may as well call it a night and take the remote rift alarm home with us.” 

“Home?”

“Sorry, did I say that?” Owen looked confused until it dawned in him what he’d said. “I meant your place.”

“No, that’s OK – I like that.” Tosh graced Owen with one of her shy smiles that spoke volumes. “So, what did Gwen have to say? Was I right? Was he on a roof?”

“No, you lost that bet. He managed to get the crap kicked out of him in a fight, died and now Ianto is so pissed off with him Gwen reckons Jack’s in danger of being denied both coffee and sex for the rest of the year.”

“Oh shit. That bad?”

“Yep.” 

“And they’re heading back here and that’s why you think we should make ourselves scarce?”

“Not quite, apparently Ianto’s threatened to drop Jack off here and go home on his own.”

“But you don’t think he will?” Tosh smiled as she spotted the way that the corners of Owen’s mouth began to curl up in a grin.

“No fucking way – Ianto’s not going to let Jack off the hook that easy. He’ll strike while he’s still livid. He’s learnt the hard way that giving Jack breathing space lets him wriggle out of trouble time and time again.”

“You’ve got a point– but I don’t think Ianto is quite such a pushover as he used to be.”

“Definitely not – but Jack’s got that pout down to a fine art.”

“I’m almost tempted to hang around for the fireworks. However, I’ll just make sure that certain cameras look as though they’re deactivated and then we’ll watch the highlights tomorrow.”

“Have I told you that I love a devious woman?”

“Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again.” Tosh smiled broadly as she set the CCTV and then put all the systems on standby. “Right then – nothing more we can do tonight anyway, the data we’ve got will wait ’till morning.”

“Exactly.” Owen held out Tosh’s coat for her, so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. “Come on, you need your sleep even if I don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can I come in?” Jack held back and waited on the pavement outside Ianto’s terraced house, his reflection shimmering in the puddles.

“If I say no, are you going to call me to continue this by phone once you get back to the Hub?” Ianto paused, key in the lock. A quick look over his shoulder at Jack answered that question for him.

“Yes.” Again, the raised, defiant chin, the look that made it clear that Jack thought he was in charge.

“Then you may as well come in – I hate phone rows.” Ianto sighed dramatically and pushed the door open.

“Who said we’re going to row?” Brow furrowed, Jack was beginning to wonder if he should have just driven back to the Hub and given Ianto time to cool off.

“Me.” Ianto dumped the bag containing his ruined overcoat in the hallway as he grabbed hold of Jack by his arm and pulled him into the living room. “Sit.”

“Is this going to be a monosyllabic row where we end up having make-up sex on the floor?” Jack waggled his eyebrows hopefully and then stopped as the temperature in the room seemed to drop as Ianto threw him an icy glare.

“No.” 

Ianto stood by the door and took in just what a mess Jack was in. His hair was matted with blood, smears of brain matter and what looked like splinters of bone. There were blood stains on his shirt and his coat bore silent witness to the punches and kicks that he’d suffered. Even though there would be no outward signs of those injuries ever having existed, Ianto knew that the residual, phantom pains persisted, and that Jack would still be suffering a great deal of discomfort. He could also see in his eyes that there was a certain amount of damage to his psyche as well – he needed to be looked after first, before being yelled at. 

“Oh fuck.” Ianto rolled his eyes, knowing he had no choice but to take care of Jack.

“What?” Jack frowned.

“Stay where you are.”

With that, Ianto left the room and Jack heard heavy footsteps as the other man ran upstairs. Jack had expected to be ranted at, yelled at even – but he hadn’t expected Ianto to retreat so dramatically. His confusion became that much deeper when he heard the distinctive sound of a bath being run. 

“I take it you haven’t got any open cuts left, have you?” Ianto called down to him from the top of the stairs.

“What?” Jack’s eyes widened at what seemed to be a total non-sequitur. He took a chance and got up from the sofa and put his head out of the door. “No. I don’t think so. Why?”

“Good – I’ll use the Radox bath salts– the muscle soak formula.” Ianto didn’t wait for a response; he just turned away and went back into the bathroom.

Jack was puzzled and didn’t know quite what was happening, so decided to play it safe and wait in the hallway for further clarification from Ianto. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait for long.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get your arse up here now. Bloody hell, that knock to the head really did affect you badly didn’t it?”

“Ianto – what the hell are you on about?”

“I’m running you a bath – idiot. You’ve got blood and brain in your hair, possibly bits of skull as well – I know you like it to stick up but trust me there are less macabre products to use.” 

Ianto grimaced as he watched Jack tentatively run his fingers over the sticky mess on the side of his head. 

“Not to mention the fact that you’re probably aching all over. That and you spent over an hour lying in a dirty alleyway. To put it mildly, you stink.”

Jack made his way slowly up the stairs to join Ianto. He couldn’t help the silly smile that tweaked at his lips. Even when thoroughly pissed off with him, Ianto still looked after him. He wondered what the hell had he done to deserve that level of devotion.

“Why are you doing this, Ianto?” 

Jack paused in the doorway of the bathroom, taking in the sight of Ianto, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, leaning over to add extra bath salts to the running water.

“I can hardly shout and yell at you if you’re looking like a puppy that’s been kicked.” Ianto rolled his eyes to good effect. “Once you’re clean and dry it’ll be easier.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, not until you’ve heard what I have to say. Now get out of those clothes and get into that bath. I’d appreciate it if you rinsed it out afterwards as well. I’m going to grab a shower downstairs. I’ll leave something for you to wear outside the door. Don’t even think about coming downstairs naked. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. You’re not going to scrub my back for me then?”

“Don’t push it, Jack.”


	19. Chapter 19

Ianto smiled to himself as he checked his text messages after getting out of the shower. Tosh had taken the precaution of texting both himself and Gwen to let them know that she’d taken the remote rift monitor home with her, so that they didn’t need to worry about the Hub for the night. Ianto sent her a message back, thanking her. He was grateful for several reasons, not least of which was the fact that he now had the rest of the night to sort matters out with Jack, once and for all, one way or another. He’d had enough, it was time to take a stand before things deteriorated even further. Settling his hands on his hips, he focused awhile on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, he needed to centre himself in readiness for the oncoming battle that he knew was in store.

Padding barefoot around his kitchen, he opened the cupboard doors and pulled out a couple of cans of bolognaise sauce and a packet of dry pasta. If he still had an appetite by the time he’d finished with Jack, he wanted to make sure there was something that could be cooked quickly. Whether it was to be a meal for one or two remained to be seen.

Jack cleared his throat noisily to alert Ianto to the fact that he’d come downstairs and was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He figured it was a better option to announce his presence than to be caught out admiring the view as Ianto bent over to reach into the cupboard. 

“I see you decided to go with clothes. Wise choice.” 

Ianto wasn’t being facetious, not really. He wouldn’t have put it past Jack to appear wearing nothing but a broad grin and a burgeoning erection –guaranteed to derail any argument Ianto had in mind or to infuriate him further – it could have gone either way, given the mood he was in. He was also grateful that he’d selected a pair of worn and baggy jeans for Jack to wear, along with a misshapen, unflattering, beige t-shirt; he wasn’t taking any unnecessary chances, he knew exactly what he was up against. The trademark Harkness charm couldn’t be eliminated altogether, but it could be restrained. 

“I put the stuff I was wearing in your laundry hamper – is that OK?” 

“That’s fine, I guess. Better than on the floor.” Ianto frowned, Jack usually just left his clothes wherever he’d discarded them. He wondered if this wasn’t an alternative ploy to wrongfoot him, because if it was it nearly succeeded and Ianto needed to be focused. “Right then, you’d better take a seat.”

“That bad, huh?” Jack tilted his head to one side and gave a half-hearted smile, hoping that Ianto was feeling in a forgiving mood, and that he could sidle his way out of trouble.

“Oh yes – definitely that bad.” Ianto fixed Jack with a hard, unblinking stare that made it abundantly clear that he meant business.

Any trace of a smile left Jack’s face as he saw the combination of frustration, anger and hurt in Ianto’s expression. Yet again he had the distinct feeling that perhaps he’d pushed Ianto beyond the limits of his tolerance, an achievement he wasn’t particularly proud of, especially as he put up with more crap from him than anyone he’d been with in a very long time. 

Ianto waited as Jack slowly sat down, watching with interest as he placed his arms out in front of him on the pine table, hands flat on the surface – almost in a gesture of surrender. He was pleased that Jack had apparently dropped all attempts to flirt his way out of trouble and was hopeful that he may actually get him to listen. Despite the temptation to stay on his feet and pace about the kitchen, glaring down at Jack as he unleashed his pent-up anger, Ianto opted for sitting down in the chair opposite. He was too tired to stay on his feet for much longer and there was something to be said for conducting a serious conversation eye-to-eye.

“First off I need you to tell me the truth. Did you go out looking for a fight because Torchwood was threatened or because of what happened to me?”

“What do you mean?” challenged Jack automatically, despite being fully aware of the fact that Ianto could see through his bluster. He always could.

“Your special project? The one with Gwen?” Ianto spoke slowly, spelling out what was bothering him in such a way that even Jack couldn’t pretend not to know what he was getting at. “What exactly was the point of all that? Preserving the integrity of relations between Torchwood Cardiff and the police … or avenging me because some ham-fisted, bigoted arsehole pushed me around when I got arrested?"

“Both?” ventured Jack, regretting the word as soon as it passed his lips. He shrugged even though he knew it was too late to retract the suggestion.

“Bullshit. I was really hoping you wouldn’t lie to me.” Ianto shook his head in disappointment. “For fuck’s sake, Jack, stop treating me as if I was born yesterday. I am not a bloody child. If I was, you really need to ask yourself what you think you’re doing the next time you shove your hands down my pants!” 

“Ianto- !”

“No! You do not get to act outraged by anything I say or do! You have lost that privilege.” Ianto pointed an accusatory finger at Jack. “You see, if it was all about Torchwood not being able to rely on support from the local police force, you would have talked to all of us about your suspicions and we’d have dealt with it as a team. Any investigation would then have been conducted employing thorough research and proper surveillance – your rules, remember? Instead, you went rogue, got ambushed and had the shit kicked out of you!” 

“I followed procedure, dammit!” protested Jack. “When it comes to liaising with the police, I rely on Gwen to -” 

“You had her working on this in secret!” countered Ianto, before Jack had chance to finish what he was saying. 

“I had my reasons! You don’t get to question me on how I run operations!” yelled Jack, angrily slamming a fist on the table. 

“Oh, don’t I?” Ianto sprang to his feet, refusing to allow Jack to intimidate him in his own kitchen. 

Ianto was utterly sick of the fact that every now and then Jack still resorted to pulling rank. Yes, at the beginning of their relationship, it was quite clear cut, Jack was the boss and he did as he was asked: make coffee, attack on command and bend over the desk and think of Wales when requested. But not any longer, the lines had long since blurred and Jack valued him as much professionally as he did personally, or so he thought. 

Moving swiftly around the table, Ianto firmly planted his hands on the arms of the chair effectively pinning Jack to his seat. Leaning in until he was barely an inch away from Jack’s face, he looked straight into the older man’s eyes, and took a deep breath, determined to have his say while he was still furious enough not to hold back. 

“The fact that you kept everyone in the dark, except for Gwen, is an insult to all of us, especially me. I am neither a child nor some girl whose honour you have to defend. Admittedly I’m not as old as you are, but in this century I’m still old enough to be considered an adult. I’ve had my share of confrontations with bullies and thugs before, long before you started making me the object of your public displays of affection, and I have no illusions that I won’t in the future. But, despite what you seem to think, I can take care of myself. And what’s more, if I’m in a position where I can’t, at least I know when to call for back up.”

Ianto paused to catch his breath and allow Jack to absorb what he’d had to say. His throat ached from the effort he’d made to keep his voice under control and not to submit to the temptation to scream in the other man’s face. He was determined not to let this discussion descend into a shouting match; he desperately needed Jack to hear some home truths. 

“Yeah – well you can get hurt! You can die!” Jack roughly shoved Ianto’s arms out of the way so he could push himself out of the chair and stand up. “I can’t - that’s why I take these risks –”

“Bollocks! That’s no excuse for being so fucking careless!” Any attempt at restraint was now cast aside – Jack’s use of what he liked to think of as his trump card never failed to enrage Ianto. “Did you expect me and Gwen to pick your broken corpse up off the street before it got carted off with the bottles and cans for recycling?”

“I would’ve been alright. If you hadn’t turned up, I would’ve been back at the Hub tomorrow morning and you’d never have known any different.” Jack poked a finger into Ianto’s chest, punctuating the ill-advised words that he let slip.

“And that somehow makes it OK does it?” Ianto took a step back, putting his hands on his hips to keep him from taking a swing at Jack, appalled at what he’d heard. “Yet another thing you’d have kept from me?”

“It didn’t come to that though, did it?” Jack grumbled.

“You’re fucking unbelievable – d’you know that?” Ianto grabbed hold of Jack’s arms and pushed him against the fridge. 

“What else have you kept from me?" Ianto sighed, knowing that was a question that never could or would be fully answered.

“I guess Gwen told you everything then?” Jack jutted his chin, defiantly. 

“No!” Ianto could barely credit the fact that Jack was attempting to imply that he’d been betrayed, whereas two people who loved him had done everything they could to save his ungrateful arse. 

“Just where I was likely to find you. Like me, she has this inexplicable sense of loyalty towards you. When you take us into your confidence, when you trust us, we feel so special, Jack.” Ianto sighed in exasperation. His eyes shone with tears as he shook his head and sadly uttered: “You really are an arrogant bastard.”

Leaning forward, Ianto let his forehead press against Jack’s, breathing heavily. He loosened his grip on Jack’s biceps but was surprised when no move was made by the other man to break free.

“I’m sorry.” Jack rarely apologised. The words felt strange in his mouth. “I couldn’t believe that they dared to treat you like that. I just didn’t stop to think. I didn’t want you to have to face them-”

“Why not? You think I couldn’t handle it, don’t you?” Ianto moved back and tilted his head to one side as he tried to catch Jack’s eyes. “If that’s the case then you don’t know me at all. Never have and probably never will-”

“Don’t say that!” 

Jack’s hands darted out and cupped Ianto’s face, forcing him to look at him. He floundered desperately, but there was part of him that felt that if he just held onto Ianto physically he could maybe rescue the situation before it spiralled totally out of control. 

“Please don’t say that, Ianto. You’re right. Look, I can’t help it if I treat you all as if you’re kids, it’s just that when it comes to what you’re facing, you may as well be children.”

“Spare me! After all we’ve gone through as a team you still think we’re not ready? Bloody hell! Why do we even bother then?” Ianto raised an eyebrow as he went on to deliver his coup de grace. “But, if that’s what you think, perhaps you’d better wait for me to grow up before screwing me again.” 

“You’re not serious, are you?” Jack stopped breathing briefly as he considered what Ianto was threatening. He dropped his hands from Ianto’s head to his shoulders, but kept a firm hold, not wanting to let him go, in any sense of the word.

“Totally. If you want us to maintain a physical relationship, Jack, you have to treat me like an adult. You don’t get to fuck me senseless one minute and treat me like some hapless child the next – I’m in my twenties, not my teens. I am not your plaything.” 

Ianto wrapped his arms around Jack’s waist and pulled him close, wanting him to hear every word. 

“I’ve been working for Torchwood for longer than Tosh or Owen, not to mention Gwen. I’ve witnessed violence on a bigger scale than any of them. I looked on as my friends were cut down by Daleks and Cybermen. I crawled over their bleeding bodies to get out – to find Lisa. I came here ready to do whatever it took to save her and I failed. Jack, you gave me reason to keep living. Now listen carefully – I don’t expect you to treat me as an equal, not at work, but you’ve got to stop this shit. Otherwise whatever this… this thing we have is …it’s far more screwed up than I’d ever imagined. You’re not my bloody father. Maybe I should get Owen to arrange therapy for me.”

“Point made.” Jack slid his hands down Ianto’s arms and leaned into him, sighing in resignation. “I just want to protect you. I’ve got so damn close to losing all of you. Dammit, I lost Owen and look what I did to get him back.”

“Promise me one thing. Never, ever do that to get me back.” Ianto shuddered. “Don’t you dare go looking for another glove. Just… don’t. When I do go, just let me go.”

“I can’t promise you that.” Jack shook his head vehemently. He swallowed harshly, an unexpected lump in his throat making it hard to continue. “If there is ever anything in my power –” 

“No heroic measures.” Ianto paused, aware of the irony of that phrase when it came to Jack. “I guess that covers a multitude of sins when it comes to you, doesn’t it?”

“Can’t you allow me some sub-heroic measures?” Jack pleaded, making an attempt at playfulness. “Kiss of life?”

“Fine – if I’m dying in your arms, I sanction you to snog the life out of me.” Ianto’s lips curled up as he reflected on his own dark humour. But he hadn’t reckoned on the despondent pall that fell over Jack as he trembled in Ianto’s loose embrace.

“Not funny, Ianto. Don’t joke about that – I beg you, please?”

“Hey – it’s OK. You know me, tear you off a strip about dying at the drop of a hat, but I can’t be serious when it comes to my own mortality.” Ianto pressed a kiss to the top of Jack’s head and hugged him closer until the trembling abated. 

“So – are we OK now?” asked Jack nervously.

“What’s it to be, Jack? You going to treat me like the man I am, or a kid?” Ianto hooked his thumbs into the low-slung waistband of the baggy jeans that he’d given Jack to wear and tugged him hard against his own hips, giving him a hint as to what the best answer would be.

“That’s a loaded question Ianto Jones, especially if you’re going to do that,” gasped Jack. 

Ianto arched an eyebrow as he slid his hands inside the loose jeans, smirking as he remembered that he’d not left out any underwear for Jack.

“So, what’s your answer?”


	20. Chapter 20

Jack wriggled his bare backside against the cool quarry tiles, breathlessly chuckling into the sweaty locks of Ianto’s hair that brushed against his chin, tickling his sensitized skin. He could feel the other man’s warm breath on his chest, gentle and steady now, no longer panting rapidly, gasping for air.

“Hey there, you still with me?” Jack pushed the damp hair back from Ianto’s forehead.

“Hmmm…” 

Although the acknowledgement was barely audible, the heavy sigh gave Jack cause to smile.

“You know what? I really need to get you that mad at me more often.” 

“Don’t you dare,” grumbled Ianto hoarsely.

“Getting cramp here – think you could move a little?” Jack arched his back and heard a few vertebrae click in protest. The cold, hard tiles weren’t particularly comfortable and he was pinned down by the sprawling body of Ianto, who’d apparently lost the ability to move as soon as he’d pulled out of Jack and then collapsed on top of him. Considering how passionately forceful his love making had been, that didn’t entirely surprise Jack.

“Ow!” Ianto lifted his head too quickly and cracked it on the underside of the kitchen table. He rubbed his scalp briskly in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain. “How the fuck did that get there?”

“It hasn’t moved – don’t you remember pushing me underneath here?” Jack braced his feet against the pine table legs as Ianto cautiously crawled backwards off his body and out from under the table.

Jack wasn’t entirely convinced that Ianto had full control over his limbs as he watched him clumsily get his foot get caught up in bunched up t-shirt that had been thrown to one side in their rush to get naked. Looking past Ianto, he could see two pairs of crumpled jeans carelessly strewn on the floor – he grinned as he realised that neither of them had even bothered undoing the zips, they’d just ripped each others’ clothing off in their urgency to feel skin, to touch flesh.

“Oh god …” Ianto groaned as he peeled a greasy fragment of foil from his elbow. “Tell me we didn’t really re-enact the Last Tango in Paris in my kitchen?”

“Stop moaning, you got to be Marlon Brando.” Jack pouted playfully. “And besides, I’m the one who’s now oven ready. Margarine or butter?”

“What? I don’t know – just grabbed whatever came to hand first. Let’s see …” Ianto unfolded the silvery foil until he could make out the words on the outside. “Oh shit, it was the unsalted butter, that stuff’s expensive.”

“Hey – I’m worth it.”

“It’s Lurpak not Loreal.” Ianto rolled his eyes.

Leaning back on his haunches, Ianto surveyed the sight of his utterly debauched lover spread out on display before him. However angry he had been with Jack, he couldn’t fail to smile at the sight of him stretched out on the floor, smooth, hairless skin glistening with sweat, one arm folded beneath his head, showing off every well-defined muscle from his chest to his abdomen and then lower still. The reddened bite marks on Jack’s shoulders and neck were already beginning to fade, as were the scratches from where Ianto’s nails had dug in when he’d finally achieved his release- so powerful it had hurt. He could see the faint traces of the bruises on Jack’s hips from where he’d grabbed hold tight as he’d lifted his arse off the floor, all the better to bury himself as deeply as he could in Jack’s ever welcoming body. Having no sense of modesty at all, Jack lay there, legs wide open, a thin trickle of semen on the inside of his thigh catching the light, his fingertips drawing lazy circles in the sticky residues of his own come that had pooled on his belly.

“You are such a slut,” grumbled Ianto, shaking his head in mock despair. “But gorgeous with it.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. So, are you going to help me out from here or are you intending to keep me naked, tied up under your breakfast table as punishment.”

“It wouldn’t count as punishment – you’d be enjoying it far too much.” Ianto shook his head trying to dispel the images that came to mind of various scenarios that would inevitably make him late to work. Springing to his feet, he winced as sharp pains shot through his knees and then reached out a hand help Jack to his feet. “Come on –you could do with a shower. That buttery arse of yours isn’t going anywhere near my sheets tonight.”

“So, I’m staying the night then?” Jack smiled hopefully.

“If you want to.” Ianto tried and failed to look nonchalant as he stood, hands on bare hips, gazing at the equally naked body of his boss and lover.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” Jack took a step closer to Ianto and reaching out to hold his head still, he leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. 

“Right then – you get showered and I’ll clear the debris off the floor in here before we break our necks slipping on butter wrappers. Then I’m going to get something to eat – you hungry?”

“Starving.” 

Jack watched carefully as Ianto stooped down to pick up discarded items of clothing before throwing them into the washing machine. He was amused at the turnabout from fiery, ardent lover to bashful young man. He put it down to the fact that he was probably coming down from an adrenaline high that had fuelled both his fight and his love making. 

“You sure about this?”

“For now, yes, so don’t mess things up again, at least not until tomorrow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whilst Jack showered, Ianto put a kettle of water on to boil, had a quick shower in the downstairs cloakroom and then returned to prepare something to eat. He decided that there was no point getting dressed again, but he kept the towel wrapped about his waist, not really wanting to risk getting splashed with hot pasta sauce.

The pasta was cooked and draining by the time Jack reappeared, also wearing nothing but a towel. A very skimpy towel, but at least he wasn’t completely nude. 

“I wasn’t sure if I was still forbidden from coming downstairs naked, even though it was you that stripped me out of the clothes you had me put on in the first place.”

“The towel is good – just keep it in place.”

Jack sat down as Ianto served up bowls of pasta and sauce and set them down next to the two large glasses of iced water he’d already placed on the table. As Jack tucked in voraciously, sex and fighting never failing to give him a healthy appetite, Ianto drank deeply, needing to rehydrate first, that and get his thoughts together. 

“So – tell me, what makes you so convinced the police are up to no good? It could just be a case of simple, old-fashioned homophobia.”

“There has to be more to it than that.” Jack paused briefly, swallowing what he had in his mouth and taking a slurp of water before continuing. He decided that he had to be honest with Ianto, especially after their earlier argument. “Someone knows something about whatever was put on the SUV when it was clamped on Albany Road – you touched it and almost ended up dead. If Owen and I hadn’t got there when we did, you could have died.”

“And you think that was deliberate?” Ianto lifted a single piece of pasta to his lips and blew on it to cool it down, his throat was still sore from being intubated and yelling at Jack hadn’t helped.

“Any evidence that may have existed showing who messed with the SUV was wiped. I can’t help thinking one of those bastards nearly caused your death.” Jack reached out to take Ianto’s right hand, wanting to check that the swelling on the pad of his thumb was still going down.

“You’ve got no proof of that – it’s just as likely to be a coincidence.” Ianto squeezed Jack’s hand, reassuring him that he was still alive.

“I don’t believe in coincidences-”

“Here we go – fifty-first century paranoid man speaking.” 

“Not paranoid,” mumbled Jack, spearing several pieces of pasta onto his fork. 

“So – a few teenagers, a couple of students, a shopkeeper, a waitress, a cabby and a tramp were all attacked to cover up for the fact that I was the main target? Now that doesn’t sound ridiculous at all – does it?”

“Damn, if you’re going to put it like that – I guess you’ve got a point.” Jack sighed heavily and dropped his fork into the empty bowl with a resounding clatter.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Feel free. I think you’ve got every right, seeing as how badly I’ve screwed up so far.”

“I think you’ve been approaching this from a personal angle. You’ve been convinced that the police are out to get us personally – yes?”

“It sure as hell looks like that from where I’m standing.”

“Then stand somewhere else. I think what we really need to focus on is why the police are being so uncooperative with Torchwood. We need to find out what happened to rattle them so badly that they hold us responsible – there has to be more to this than meets the eye.” 

“What about the collapses? One man is dead –”

“Owen and Tosh were working on that, they’ll have some answers for us. Last thing they had, before Gwen and I left to scrape you off the road, was that there were no traces of the active chemical on the SUV itself, but Tosh was going to run tests on the bucket and the cloth I’d wiped it down with.”

“Nothing on the SUV at all – what about the eggshell?”

“Also negative … but the SUV was left in the street for a few hours – on Albany Road. The other victims had also been outdoors on the road there before they fell ill. The teenage girls and the students had been to the club, maybe they’d gone outside for some fresh air? Perhaps the schoolgirls were those kids that tried to buy vodka in the shop next door? Then there’s Sylvia, the barmaid, the homeless guy sleeping rough outside, the taxi driver who picked up a fare there and Majid from the convenience store had a smoke outside – all were there in the same time frame. So there must have been some event – maybe an alien gas or something.” 

Ianto frowned as he took a mouthful of pasta and began to chew it thoughtfully. 

“I was stupid – I should have talked to you. I was blinded by my own hurt pride. I couldn’t see past the fact that something had breached the safety barriers I set up around you all, you in particular. What we’ve got are two investigations. But I have a nasty feeling that we’re going to need co-operation from the police and the hospital before we get to the bottom of whatever is causing people to go into shock.”

“While you’re feeling remorseful, can I make one more suggestion?” Ianto licked sauce from the corners of his mouth, not totally oblivious to the fact that Jack was mesmerised by the way his tongue flicked out to clean up every trace of the bright red sauce.

“Go for it-”

“Get Gwen to deal with the hospital and Owen to find out what’s going on with the police.”

“Why?” Jack was completely thrown. “Surely it makes more sense for them to tackle the field they’ve most experience in?”

“On the contrary – like you, they’re too closely involved, both have too much of a vested interest to be able to be totally objective. Gwen isn’t the best person to seek out corruption in the police force because she had a vocation when she joined up and doesn’t want to be disillusioned. Meanwhile, Owen hates hospital bureaucracy that stands in the way of patient care, so he has no time for managers and puts their backs up – a bit like you do.”

“You’re a genius, Ianto Jones! Now why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you stopped thinking the moment you saw the bruises on my legs from when I got arrested. I knew that would happen and that’s why I tried to hide them from you.”

“Damn, am I that easy to read?”

“Pretty much – but then I’ve been studying you closely for a while now.”

“I’ve been watching you as well. I’m gonna team you up with Gwen and get Tosh to accompany Owen. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. Now I don’t know about you, but it’s way past my bedtime. Joining me?”

“Am I forgiven?” asked Jack quietly, his face open and earnest. He needed to know that beyond the frantic coupling earlier and the companionable meal they’d shared, that Ianto was prepared to give him another chance. 

“Until you do it again – but I’d really appreciate it if you could kerb those suicidal tendencies of yours, at least while I’m the one picking up the pieces and mopping up the blood.” 

“Oh Ianto, how can you say things like that and then wonder why I do everything in my power to keep you with me for as long as I possibly can?”

“Come to bed. Maybe I can think of something to prove to you that you’re forgiven.”


	21. Chapter 21

If it wasn’t for the questions that remained unanswered, Jack wouldn’t have let Ianto out of bed the following morning. Overnight, the younger man had started to snuffle in his sleep and had even managed to wake himself up with a loud sneeze. Despite protestations from Jack that he’d caught a cold from sitting out in the rain, Ianto insisted he was fine and that there was no way he was going to let Jack go into work without him.

“You’re not well,” stated Jack adamantly as he pulled a faded hoodie over his head. He had sat down on the edge of the bed next to Ianto, who was leaning over to put his shoes on.

“Remember the conversation about me being a grown-up?” asked Ianto, fixing Jack with a stare as he reached past him to grab hold of the box of tissues he’d thrown onto the bed earlier. “Well, this is me being old enough to know that Owen won’t be writing me a sick note for a couple of sneezes and a bit of a runny nose.”

“But Ianto-” Jack started to object until he thought better of it. “OK, I get the message.”

“Good.” Ianto stood up to lob a handful of used tissues into the waste bin. Then he frowned as he took a good look at Jack. 

“Come on, let’s get to work, then you can change back into your own clothes. You just look wrong in a hoodie and as for those jeans, they look positively obscene. They are not the ones I left out for you.”

“Hey – those baggy ones just hung off my ass. Not a good look.”

Ianto wondered what state the rest of his jeans were in, imagining Jack rummaging through them whilst he’d been in the bathroom, oblivious to the mayhem being visited upon his neatly ordered drawers of clothing.

“You’re such a vain bastard,” muttered Ianto as he helped Jack into his scruffy greatcoat, hoping that it would conceal the fact that the jeans he was wearing were clinging to every curve and bulge as if they’d been painted on.

“Looked in a mirror recently?” Jack raised his eyebrows at Ianto indignantly. “Oh yes, make that about twenty times to straighten your tie, check the buttons on your waistcoat are shining and that there isn’t a single fibre of lint on your jacket!”

“Standards, Jack – I have standards. It’s not the same as being vain.” Ianto grabbed hold of Jack’s shoulder firmly, as he took a stiff bristled clothes brush to the worst of the dried dirt on the coat he admired so much.

Snatching the car keys from the shelf next to the coat rack, Ianto opened the door without further ado and made straight for the SUV. By the time Jack had chance to react, Ianto was already shutting the driver’s door and adjusting the rear-view mirror. Chuckling to himself, Jack shut the front door behind him and jogged to the passenger door, not altogether trusting Ianto to wait before driving off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Anything, Tosh?” Owen whispered furtively as Tosh scanned through the files of recordings from Jack’s office overnight. 

“Nothing – absolutely nothing. Maybe Ianto is onto me and wiped the lot. Damn – I can’t find a single trace of either of them having been here at all last night.” 

Tosh looked disgruntled as took off her glasses and set them on the desk next to the keyboard. She’d had a bet on with Owen that could only be settled by viewing the argument that they were convinced had taken place between Jack and Ianto.

“No luck there then?” asked Gwen from the balcony overlooking the work stations. She was also disappointed, having come to rely on Tosh for the best footage of Jack and Ianto in action.

“Zilch. What about you? Heard anything from either of them yet?” Tosh looked up at Gwen, pointing at the phone she was clasping in her hand.

“Not a peep.” Gwen clattered down the metal stairs to join Tosh. “What bothers me is that if Jack never came back here, and neither did Ianto, that suggests that Jack stayed over at his house last night. I really thought Ianto would hold out for longer.”

“Maybe he gave Jack what for back at his place?” suggested Tosh hopefully. 

“More like the other way around,” muttered Owen.

“Piss off, Owen – you didn’t see the state Ianto was in last night.” Gwen thumped Owen on the arm, feeling the need to defend Ianto. “I’ve never known him that pissed off with Jack before.”

“I’m telling you – Harkness charm turned up the max, not to mention that overbearing, pompous –”

“Shhh! It’s them!” hissed Tosh, alerted by the lights that started to flash as the cog wheel door slowly turned to open.

Ianto led the way, immaculately turned out, his head held high. A slight smile graced his lips as he placed the SUV keys on his own desk. Gwen looked over at Tosh and grinned – that simple gesture told them exactly who had the upper hand on that morning. Owen just shook his head and grimaced as he took in the fact that Jack was evidently dressed in Ianto’s clothes under his own, far from pristine, great coat.

“Good morning. Who’s for coffee?”

“That would be wonderful, Ianto.” Tosh smiled with gratitude, there was nothing quite like freshly brewed coffee to wake up her synapses first thing in the morning. “I take it you’re feeling better today?”

“Yes, thank you, Tosh. I have Owen to thank for that – I’d give him a great big sloppy thank you kiss, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, coffee boy, but I’ll pass on the snog for now, wouldn’t want to get Jack jealous. So, what happened to you, boss – rough night weevil hunting?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” muttered Jack, stealing a quick glance at Ianto.

“Perhaps you’d like to change into something more suitable for work, sir and I’ll prepare some coffee and take it to the boardroom?”

“Sure. Briefing in fifteen minutes people – Tosh and Owen bring your findings. Oh yes, Gwen?”

“Jack?” Gwen tilted her head to one side to give Jack a quizzical look. 

“Bring everything you’ve got on our investigation into the police situation.”

“What? Can you clarify that? Surely you don’t mean-?” Gwen looked gobsmacked, wondering if perhaps the blows to his skull had managed to inflict permanent damage after all. 

“Yes, I do mean that – the project I had you working on. It’s about time to get everyone on board with that problem.”

Jack winked conspiratorially at Ianto, which rather undermined the whole point of being more open with his team, but they were too taken aback by their leader’s apparent personality change to notice Ianto roll his eyes in mock despair.

As soon as Jack had rushed off in the direction of his office they all focused their attention back on Ianto.

“OK, Jones – what the fuck have you done with the real Jack Harkness?” Owen demanded. “Not that I’m complaining – I could grow to like this version you found.”

“What would you say if I said I dumped him in the Bay with bricks in his pockets?” 

“I’d say you’d been watching too much Dexter. Then I’d go check your stock of black bin bags.”

“Ianto – what the hell did you say to him?” Gwen was in awe. She’d been trying for weeks to get Jack to share his suspicions with the others. Her wheedling and pouting had got her nowhere. There was a resolve behind Ianto’s mild-mannered façade that she couldn’t help but admire.

“Not much – just a few home truths, you know.” Ianto had sought refuge in the comforts of the shining coffee machine and was busying himself grinding the beans in preparation for the first brew of the day.

“Not much?” Tosh was scrutinising Ianto over the top of her glasses that had she had propped coquettishly on the end of her nose. “Sounds to me like Jack is getting ready to spill the beans on one of his secret projects. Willingly. Have you been sneaking a look at my manual of evil persuasion techniques?”

Ianto shuddered briefly before carefully collecting the aromatic coffee grounds from the grinder.

“I am not worthy to be inducted into your league of evil interrogators, Miss Sato.” Smiling at Tosh in the reflection on the coffee machine, Ianto shrugged slightly. “Perhaps I just managed to appeal to the side of Jack that really wants to take us all into his confidence.”

“Bollocks, that doesn’t exist! Trust me, I’m a doctor, I’d have found it by now if it did.” Owen grunted in disbelief.

“I beg to differ, Owen, it’s there – you just need to know where to look.” Ianto winked at Owen before tucking his head down as he carefully arranged stacks of cups and saucers on a tray along with a small jug of milk and a plate of biscuits.

“Well there you go then.” Owen stated disparagingly. “Not all of us are prepared to go those lengths to get through to the boss.”

“Then it’s just as well I am – isn’t it?” 

“Come on, Owen, you can help me pull together our report.” Tosh tugged at Owen’s arm, having been prompted by Gwen to give her some time alone with Ianto. On her way towards the autopsy bay, Tosh turned to Gwen and mouthed the word ‘later’.

As soon as Tosh and Owen walked off to collect their data and findings from their respective work stations, Gwen turned to Ianto and put her hand flat on his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“Ianto, just a minute. I take it you managed to talk to him – did he listen?”

Ianto sighed and gently bit on his lower lip before looking up at Gwen and softly confiding in her.

“For now – but you know Jack. He’ll have forgotten his promises by the end of the week or convinced himself that he knows what’s best for us all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He means well, but… I think half the time he’s afraid of getting too close to any of us, because eventually he’ll lose us. The rest of the time he’s terrified that if he keeps us at too much of a distance he’ll lose his humanity. All I can do is try to steer him on an even course that will get him through the next few hours or days at a time. No point planning anything longer term than that, not working for Torchwood, is there?”

“And you’re OK with that?” Gwen’s fingertips gently brushed over Ianto’s tie, pausing above his heart. “Seems a bit one-sided to me. What about you?”

“It’s all I have now, Gwen and to be honest, all I want.”

Turning away from what he’d assume would be a look of pity on Gwen’s face, Ianto added the pot of coffee to the tray and headed purposefully towards the boardroom. He missed seeing Gwen fold her arms across her chest and the determined glare she threw in his direction.

“Like bollocks it is,” muttered Gwen under her breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at the head of the long table in the boardroom, Tosh and Owen were ready to deliver their report on what they’d discovered as a result of their research to date. As Tosh took a sip of coffee, they looked up to see Jack collect a thick file of paperwork from Gwen. Apparently, the substance of her ‘special project’, they all knew that Jack relied on old fashioned paperwork when he wanted to keep secrets – single copies kept under lock and key. Meanwhile, Ianto sat back quietly, taking satisfaction in watching the team start to work together properly once more. 

“You first.” Jack took a seat next to Ianto and prompted Owen to make a start. “Looks like you and Tosh have been working hard on all of this. What’ve you got for us?”

Owen screwed up his face, wondering for the second time, what kind of Faustian deal Ianto had made to get Jack to sit down and listen to his team. He was pretty sure that he’d already sold his soul a while back, which left his body. Owen idly wondered if he’d asked for a receipt. 

“Right then, so here’s the big breakthrough that Tosh and I figured out last night, when we were still here working after the rest of you had buggered off. The hospital pathologists concentrated on blood samples – that’s what they sent off for analysis – all they show are the antibodies and by deduction, the nature of the antigenic molecules that triggered the adverse reactions. The same antibodies in their blood that we found in Ianto’s.” 

Owen paused as if to acknowledge the fact that yet again Ianto had narrowly escaped death. Looking across to Ianto he could see that Jack had reached out to rest his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, a gesture that wasn’t rejected, which boded well. 

“Anyway, I took sputum samples as well as blood and they’ve helped us to go a stage further. I was looking for airborne particles of some sort … residue from some artefact that fell through the Rift maybe, but what we found is both better and worse.”

“What is it?” Jack frowned, it was his prerogative to be enigmatic, not Owen’s.

“Pollen,” announced Tosh.

“What?” Gwen looked confused – she couldn’t fathom that something as innocuous as pollen was responsible for the devastating effects they’d witnessed.

“Look at this-” Tosh raised her hand and delicately pointed at the image she projected onto the display screen.

Zooming in from a low magnification to a much higher one, with greater resolution, the tetrahedral shapes came into sharper focus, their facets displaying intricate patterns of dimples and tiny spines. On the points were small swollen domes that softened the shape.

“I thought pollen looked spiky when magnified.” Gwen peered at the images, taken by how delicate the designs were.

“That’s mainly in insect pollinated flowers – the smoother polled grains are those that you normally get with wind pollinated varieties, like tree and grass pollens that trigger asthma attacks and hay fever.”

“So, it’s just a case of really bad hay fever.” Ianto frowned, absently pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to blow his nose. Catching the concerned look from Jack he mumbled quietly: “It’s just a snuffle, that’s all.”

“Not quite. I had Kew check this against their data base and they’ve got nothing like it– nothing even close.”

“New species?” Gwen asked naively.

“Oh God –it’s not an alien plant is it?” asked Ianto. He couldn’t help but imagine hordes of Triffids invading the streets of Cardiff.

“Yes. Well that’s what we think. Either that or a more highly evolved Earth species from the future that has slipped back in time through the Rift,” explained Tosh carefully. “The thing is that it’s not meant to be here and its pollen triggered the dangerous reactions in people exposed to it.”

“What about Ianto then?” Jack interjected. “He cut his hand on something – and that wasn’t pollen.”

“We reckon it must’ve been another part of the plant – if there’s pollen there’s a full plant somewhere, out there and part of it must have been blown onto the SUV in the wind,” replied Owen. “Then Ianto managed to cut himself on it and then suck his thumb – bloody idiot- and that’s what triggered his anaphylactic shock.”

“Oh good, it’s not necessarily malicious – not a triffid then.” Ianto appeared relieved. “Although I quite like the idea of Triffids taking out that big bastard at the club. Oh shit, I need to get onto that today. Tosh I’m going to need your help with something-”

“Secret project, Ianto?” asked Jack feigning innocent inquiry.

Gwen gave Ianto a wide-eyed stare, recalling how he’d twisted the thug’s bleeding arm behind his back. 

“Fair comment. I might have threatened a large gentleman who had been on the verge of caving in your skull.” Ianto almost looked embarrassed at admitting that he’d become violent with someone purely because they’d hurt Jack. “I may have told him that if he wasn’t out of Cardiff by this afternoon I was going to download child pornography onto his computer and make sure he was arrested.”

“Ianto!” Gwen gaped in astonishment – no wonder Ianto had made sure she couldn’t hear what he’d been saying.

“Nice one, mate.” Owen was impressed.

“So ... Tosh?” Ianto raised his eyebrows hopefully.

“Make me a macchiato, one of the special ones, and by the time you’ve put the milk on top I’ll have it done.” Tosh graced Ianto with a secretive smile that made it clear that it wasn’t the first time the two of them had made such a bargain.

“You’re on.”

Owen coughed loudly to draw attention back to the satellite image he’d projected onto the screen.

“When you two have finished plotting the downfall of some poor sap, let’s get back to the alien plant. Having plotted the movements of our victims, I’ve concluded that our plant has to be somewhere in Albany Road. Which means we need to start looking there for strange looking plant life.”

“What? Albany Road? Again?” Ianto visibly paled. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”


	22. Chapter 22

Ianto looked as if the revelation that they had to return to Albany Road was the worst possible news he could receive. Jack caught the look of horror in his eyes and gently shook his head.

“No one goes back there until we’ve got a better idea what we’re dealing with,” stated Jack whilst taking the added measure of reaching under the table to squeeze Ianto’s thigh, trying to reassure him that he’d not be expected to go back there any time soon.

“Gwen – I want you and Ianto to find out if anyone else has been admitted to the hospital with symptoms similar to the original victims. If any have turned up, I want you two to go there and interview them. Find out their movements – find out where they could have had contact with the pollen or the plant. Meanwhile, we also need to locate that plant. I don’t suppose there’s anything we have access to that could remotely scan for vegetation on Albany Road?”

“Jack – we’ve got no idea what size this bloody thing is!” protested Owen.

“Owen’s got a point – I can use satellite technology to distinguish vegetation from non-living components of the environment, but not on the scale required to pinpoint one single plant.” Tosh looked at Jack apologetically. “Did you see any odd-looking plants when you were there?”

“I don’t remember any plant life there at all – what about you, Ianto?”

“Vegetables, yes. Plant life, no,” replied Ianto succinctly. 

“Well at least they can’t move, which has got to help, hasn’t it?” Gwen shrugged, wondering just how hard it could be to find an alien plant.

“Triffids can. I mean if they were like Triffids then they could move,” Ianto mused.

“What’s it with you and bloody Triffids?” demanded Owen. “You expecting all the kids to turn weird next – the Cardiff Cuckoos? I’ve told you before that you watch too many old movies.” 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not something like a Triffid,” stated Ianto petulantly, taking a chocolate biscuit from the plate, knowing it irritated Owen when he ate the ones he used to favour. “You’re the one who said it was an alien plant.”

“Can’t we tell anything from the pollen? The forensics teams used to identify plant species from pollen samples found on bodies.” Gwen said, cradling her coffee mug in her hands. “Can’t we work out what sort of plant it might be from what we’ve got?”

“Sorry, Gwen, it doesn’t work like that – pollen analysis relies on previously identified samples. The pollen grains we’ve isolated could’ve been made by anything from the size of a daisy to that of an oak tree.”

“I’d have noticed a tree in Albany Road,” said Ianto, taking another bite of the chocolate biscuit and looking down quickly to avoid the glare that Gwen was directing at him. 

“So, isn’t there anything you can get from that pollen sample that could help us find this plant?” persisted Gwen doggedly.

“The air sacs on the pollen grains do suggest that it’s wind pollinated.” Tosh pointed at the highly magnified image on the screen. “That would suggest its probable habitat is an exposed place.” 

“Like a cliff tops or up on a roof?” suggested Jack, only too aware of the logistical nightmare of looking for a single plant on every roof top of Cardiff.

“This gets better and better – if it’s on the roof tops, it could be anywhere” grumbled Ianto.

“It probably relies on wind dispersal for spreading its spores or seeds, whatever it is that it produces.” Tosh sat down slowly as a whole new problem occurred to her. “And if it has released pollen, then it must have reached maturity and there’s a good chance it has reproduced.”

“Oh shit –” Owen shook his head in dismay. “If it’s set seed, they could end up anywhere-” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves – we don’t know if it has managed to reproduce yet.” Jack held his hands up in an attempt to quell the panic. “Tosh, we’ll need rooftop scans throughout the city – a radiating search pattern centred on the club on Albany Road. At least locate which roofs have plants growing on them, that will narrow down our search parameters.”

“I’ll cross reference weather patterns over the past few weeks – if its seeds are carried in the wind, we need to know which direction the prevailing winds were over the last few days, working forward from the time the first victims were affected.” Tosh had already pulled up the meteorological data and was peering at it avidly.

“We’ll eventually need to conduct a fingertip search. You lot will need to be wearing gloves and masks to avoid contact or inhalation.” Owen pointed out. “We’re going to need more manpower, we can’t do this on our own.”

Before Jack could think of an answer, the phone in the centre of the table started to ring. He intercepted Ianto, to the other man’s annoyance, deftly snatching the receiver from its cradle. Thinking the call was an answer to his dilemma, he grinned as the caller introduced herself.

“Detective Swanson – how lovely to hear you again.” Jack turned on the charm. “I was just thinking maybe you could do me another favour-”

“What?” Jack’s face fell, all trace of bonhomie deserting his features almost instantly. “Can you repeat that.”

Jack put his hand over the mouthpiece and motioned to the rest of the team to keep silent as he put the speaker on so they could all hear.

_“I said I’m sorry to disappoint you, Captain Harkness, this isn’t a social call. I need the co-operation of Torchwood.”_

“Any time, it’s always a pleasure.” Jack was frowning, wondering if Swanson was also onto the rogue elements working within the police force.

_“I don’t think you’re going to like this, Harkness. I need you to hand over one of your people for questioning.”_

“Who?” 

_“Ianto Jones.”_

“Why him?” demanded Jack.

_“He’s been implicated in a shooting on Albany Road last night. Bullets collected from the scene have been examined and ballistics matches them to those fired from weapons registered as belonging to Torchwood.”_

“So? We’ve been working in that area. You know we have,” responded Jack. 

Jack had long known that the police scoured any areas where Torchwood had operated in an attempt to ascertain exactly what they did. Chances are that they would find bullets and no doubt had built up a catalogue of the weaponry used by him and his team.

_“There’s been a serious allegation made by a member of the public. He claims your man ambushed him after he’d finished at work in an attempt to kill him.”_

“Detective Swanson – that’s quite an accusation.” Jack swallowed hard as he looked directly at Ianto, who was shaking his head from side to side in denial. He’d known, after the event, that Ianto had been upset at seeing him being attacked, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d have tried to kill his assailants. “What makes this guy so sure it was Ianto?”

_“The victim of the assault has given a statement to the effect that the man who attacked him was the same man that entered The Globe club in possession of a firearm and was subsequently taken into custody. He also stated that both you and Jones had harassed him earlier on this week. He claims there is a vendetta and he’s asked for police protection. We’ve also shown him photos and he picked out Jones straight away.”_

“Where is this guy, Kathy? Let me talk to him-” pleaded Jack, hoping against hope that he could persuade Kathy Swanson to let him see Ianto’s accuser. 

_“I can’t allow that, he’s under our protection, in hospital, with a gunshot wound. For God’s sake Jack, we’re looking at GBH at the very least if not attempted murder.”_

Kathy Swanson sounded exasperated. 

_“I can’t brush this under the carpet and let you and your people get away with pulling the Torchwood immunity from prosecution stunt. You know it doesn’t apply to situations like this. There’s no choice – either you bring him in for questioning or we wait our time and arrest him as soon as he tries to leave your base. It will be much better for him if you bring him in voluntarily. You know that.”_

“Give us an hour,” Jack growled.

_“Half an hour and don’t even think of making him disappear. Evading arrest never goes down well. Let’s do this sensibly.”_

“OK, half an hour and I’ll call you back.” Jack sighed as he switched off the speaker and sat back in his seat dejectedly. 

“Oh fuck,” muttered Ianto who had gone very pale.

“What the hell happened last night?” Jack demanded, looking from Ianto to Gwen.

“I issued a clear warning that we were armed!” Gwen had sprung to her feet, her eyes bright with anger. “The shot Ianto took was aimed to disable, not kill! I was there! That bastard is lying through his teeth!”

“She said bullets, plural,” muttered Tosh. “That suggests more than one shot.”

“I fired over the heads of the other thugs to scare them off. There were at least six of them. Gwen and I couldn’t take them all on.”

“Dammit, Ianto! You didn’t have to shoot at them!” bellowed Jack.

“What was I meant to do? Stand back and watch them beat you to a bloody pulp?” Ianto shouted back.

“He did nothing wrong, Jack!” protested Gwen. “Why are you taking this out on Ianto? Why can’t we just tell them what happened?”

“We can’t.” Ianto sighed and bit his lip.

“What do you mean, we can’t?” railed Gwen angrily. “Jack was being attacked and we stopped them-”

“It’s our word against his.” Ianto spoke quietly and slowly, all the while fixing Gwen with a stare that ensured she didn’t interrupt him. “No CCTV. No witnesses other than his mates. And, in case you’d forgotten, there’s not a mark on Jack to show he was attacked at all. So, all the evidence is on his side and there’s none on ours.”

“Bloody hell, you’re up shit creek without a paddle,” stated Owen bluntly.

Gwen looked from Ianto to Jack, who stood there, his shirtsleeves rolled up revealing blemish free skin, no outward signs whatsoever that he’d been bludgeoned to death less than twenty-four hours ago.

“Oh shit – of course, not even a bruise.” Gwen shook her head. “So what are we going to do then?”

“There’s nothing for it.” Ianto sighed wearily. “I’m going to have to turn myself in, aren’t I?”

“Jack –” 

“Don’t say it, Gwen. I know – this is all my damn fault. But I swear to you, I’ll make it right, I promise I will.”

Although his answer was directed at Gwen, Jack’s eyes didn’t stray from Ianto’s. He made a silent vow not to let Ianto suffer any more as a result of his own tendency to rush in regardless of the consequences on those who followed in his wake. If the price of Ianto’s loyalty to Jack was to be his freedom, then Jack was prepared to pay whatever it cost to release him.


	23. Chapter 23

“Gwen – I want you and Owen to go through that file of ours and see if there’s anything there that I can use as leverage. Tosh – keep working on locating that damn plant. Ianto, with me.”

Jack’s face bore all the hallmarks of a storm about to break and no-one said a word to him as he left the boardroom with Ianto in his wake.

Ianto paused briefly to spare Tosh a small smile.

“Guess we’d better put that little project on hold for now – that and the macchiato, sorry.”

“Me too, Ianto.”

“Ianto!” bellowed Jack, the sound of his voice resonating through the hallway outside the boardroom. 

“Better go.”

Owen waited until both men were out of sight before turning to Gwen.

“How the fuck is he going to fix this?”

“I’ve no bloody idea, Owen, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand by and let Ianto get locked up for this. Can’t we just beat the crap out of Jack and drag him in as evidence?”

“Tempting thought, but he’d be healed before we got there and laying into him outside the station probably wouldn’t do a lot to help Ianto.”

“I’d like to punch him for getting Ianto into this mess in the first place,” declared Tosh, as she struck the keys on her laptop far more forcefully than usual. 

“Join the queue.” Gwen clenched her own fist wistfully, wondering how much it would take for Jack to realise that he couldn’t take unilateral action without them all getting caught in the aftermath. She opened her file of paperwork and handed half of it over to Owen. “Right, Owen – why don’t you look through these and see if you can spot anything I missed.”

“I can set up the vegetation seeking program to work automatically. What can I do to help?” Tosh looked at the reams of paper that Gwen was shuffling, as if desperate to find the answer to the reason why certain factions within the police seemed hell-bent on disrupting the work of Torchwood.

“How about checking the CCTV footage? Anything from last night on Albany Road – if we can at least prove that there was more than one of them and that Jack was being attacked, that would help. I know that Swanson said there was nothing – but if it’s been wiped, I bet you could find it – please, Tosh.” 

Gwen frowned, pressing her fingertips against her temples trying to think logically. 

“Also – the name of that bastard that Ianto shot. We might not be able to get near him, but the more we can find out about him the better.”

Tosh grinned, she’d already started working on that earlier, at Ianto’s bequest. She quickly cross referenced lists of names.

“That’s easy, he’s a bouncer at The Globe and I’ve got a list of their names. Hang on – yes, only one of them recently admitted to St Helen’s Hospital. Here it is – Brian Morris.”

“Morris, you say? Are you sure about that, Tosh?”

“Yes –it’s the same name on the request for police support on the night that Ianto was arrested at the club. Why?”

“Oh shit,” muttered Gwen, as the name rung a bell. “Owen, there’s a piece of paper with the badge numbers and names of those two officers on patrol in Albany Road – is it in your pile?”

Owen rifled through the layers of documents and print outs until he found a scrap of paper – the back of an envelope, and there were the numbers and names.

“Morris – common enough name, but you could have something.”

“Tosh – run a search on those two names. If there’s anything linking them, it may be just what we need to help Ianto.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite being tempted to pour out two glasses of whisky, Jack doubted that smelling like a distillery would do Ianto any favours at the police station.

He made a quick call to Kathy Swanson, arranging to meet with her in an hour’s time. She’d sounded uncertain and he suspected that she already had men on the alert for Ianto trying to leave town. 

From the seat behind his desk, Jack watched sadly as Ianto collapsed on the sofa, his elbows on his thighs, head in hands, unable to look him in the eye. He could hardly blame him.

“Ianto?”

“The usual sentence for attempted murder is life. Ironically being locked up at Her Majesty’s pleasure may actually extend my lifespan-”

“Don’t talk like that,” growled Jack. “I’m not going to let you go down for this.”

“How can you stop it? I shot him. And there is no evidence to support my reasons for having done so, which in the eyes of the law makes me guilty as hell.” 

“Torchwood is beyond the law-”

“Bollocks! You may be beyond the law, Jack, but the rest of us can only get away with minor infringements. GBH is not on a par with parking on a double yellow.”

“We’ll talk to Swanson, get this mess sorted out-”

“They’re going to charge me, Jack. I’ll be up before the magistrate by this time tomorrow and then put in prison, on remand, until trial. There’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop that.”

“Bail – I’ll bail you out!” Jack gestured expansively as if that would be all it would take.

Ianto laughed humourlessly.

“For attempted murder? Not going to work, Jack. All the reasons not to award bail would apply – not to mention the fact that, somewhere along the line, Torchwood have pissed off the local law enforcement organisations so much they’re going to love putting one of us away.” 

“Why do you have to be so damn pragmatic?” 

Ianto tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket, intent on looking anywhere other than at Jack’s face. 

“Ah well, I think I’m allowed to wear my own clothes until they actual convict me, so that’s something to look forward to-”

“Ianto – stop this! You sound as if you’ve already given up! What happened to the fight that made you mad enough to shoot that bastard in the first place?”

“That? Let’s call it sexually transmitted bravado, shall we?” yelled Ianto, angrily. “I thought for a moment that I could get away with acting like you– but I can’t, because unlike the indomitable Captain Jack Harkness, I’m just a mere mortal and they can throw the fucking book at me – ”

“Is that how you really feel?” Jack was shocked by the vitriol in Ianto’s words.

“Forget it. I’m just angry and… to be honest, a bit scared.” 

Jack sat down next to Ianto and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. He didn’t need to ask why Ianto was scared. The thought of Ianto being locked up in prison terrified him. He knew the type of men that were inside and what they’d make of Ianto, what they would do to him. That thought alone was enough to tempt him to defy Swanson, smuggle Ianto onto the Sea Queen and spirit him away to Flat Holm, until he could find somewhere safer to hide him.

“However, I have to do this, Jack. If we don’t co-operate things will get even worse. We can’t afford to make enemies of the police – lives could be put at risk.”

“What about yours?”

“I’ll survive.” Ianto sighed heavily and then scowled at Jack. “That’s as long as you don’t insist on conjugal visits – that could prove a tipping point in my survival stakes.” 

He didn’t want to mention to Jack that the prison had a bad record when it came to violence amongst inmates sharing cells, including at least one death.

“Don’t – just don’t even talk like that, because I am not going to let them lock you away.” Jack swallowed hard, needing to reassure both Ianto and himself that he’d sort this out. “Torchwood authorisation –”

“Apparently means nothing these days. So, what’s our story going to be?”

“The truth. I’ll appeal to Kathy Swanson’s better nature. She’s got a soft spot for me.”

“Oh shit. I’m fucked aren’t I?”

Jack was glad to see a spark of sarcasm reappear, however dim it was. He slid a hand behind Ianto’s head, so he couldn’t move and then kissed him, slowly and thoroughly, taking great care not to be too desperate, not to make it seem like a kiss goodbye. Breaking away, he rested his forehead on Ianto’s and looked at the other man’s eyes, half closed, lashes fanning delicately across the pale skin.

“Those contact lenses – are they functional yet?” Jack asked, an idea coming to him.

“You mean the ones that interface directly with optical and auditory neuro-receptors?” 

Ianto frowned, it had been a side project of his and Tosh’s that they’d been having fun testing out, even though Ianto had refused point blank to wear them during any of what Tosh referred to as his ‘out of hours meetings’ with Jack. 

“Yeah – those. I’ve actually learnt that I need to keep an eye on what you guys get up to with alien tech, you know?” Jack looked affronted. However, he’d long since learnt the hard way that unmonitored use of alien technology could end tragically for all concerned. “I was thinking – if you were wearing those and they do take you into custody, at least we can monitor the situation – make sure you stay safe.”

“Tosh has managed to set up the optical interface only – no auditory signals yet. That’s the next step. Text messages can be transmitted to the lenses, but no audio either direction.” 

“So, I could get messages to you?”

“Yes. You’d just need to mindful of what sort of messages you send. I may have company in my cell.” 

Although the thought of Jack being able to keep in touch with him was immensely reassuring, Ianto was could only imagine the type of salacious messages that would inevitably make him blush. 

Picking up on his nervousness, Jack enveloped Ianto in a large hug, not wanting to let him go. 

“You’ve not said this is all my fault,” mumbled Jack, his lips pressed into Ianto’s hair. Gwen had been ready to accuse him and the faces on the others had made it abundantly clear that they also held him responsible.

“Do I have to state the obvious?”

“No. But you do know that if I could go back in time-”

“You’d have done it all over again. It’s in your nature and, annoying as that is, you wouldn’t be you otherwise.”

Jack slid his hand inside Ianto’s jacket and moved it slowly under the waistcoat, rubbing small circles at the base of his spine.

“We’ve got another half hour before we need to leave.” Jack whispered into Ianto’s ear, before lightly nuzzling at the sensitive spot on his throat. 

“Jack? You can’t be serious!”

“Hey – all I want to do is give you something good to think about until I can stage my dashing rescue.”

“And you think you can do that in thirty minutes?”

Jack tugged on Ianto’s shirttail, pulling it free from the back of his trousers, giving access to bare flesh. 

As Jack slid his hands downwards, Ianto took a sharp intake of breath and slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket to fetch his stopwatch. Giving Jack a wicked grin he pressed the button.

“Make that twenty-nine minutes, fifty-five seconds and counting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hair still damp from his rushed shower, Ianto reached for the seat belt. He was nervous despite Jack’s continued assertions that he would make sure that any charges made wouldn’t stick.

“Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t we?” 

“I’ll blame the traffic.” Jack turned in his seat to see how Ianto was faring. He couldn’t help but smile at the flustered look on his lover’s face. “Your cheeks are still pink – looks cute. She’ll love that.”

“Bloody hell, Jack. I very much doubt the ‘just-shagged-by-Captain-Harkness’ look is going to win me many brownie points with Detective Swanson.”

“Hey, don’t roll your eyes!” snapped Jack. “Not with those lenses in. Don’t want you dislodging them.”

As Jack had been looking in the wing mirror at the time, Ianto wondered how he’d known he was about to roll his eyes.

“How did you know-?”

“You make this little noise just before you do it, like a grumpy sigh.”

“Do I?” Ianto frowned at Jack.

“Yeah, it’s kinda cute.”

“That’s twice in the past few minutes you’ve referred to me as cute. The world’s about to end isn’t it?”

“Not today. I promise.” 

Jack grinned, inordinately pleased that he’d managed to put a smile on Ianto’s face, even though he knew it was just bravado. He’d known from the way that Ianto had clung onto him as they’d made love that he was fearing the worst. The fading scratch marks on his hips and thighs testimony to how much Ianto wanted to hold onto him. He’d be damned if he didn’t fight to keep Ianto by his side and out of jail.

“Hold on, tight,” warned Jack as he reversed the SUV sharply out of its parking space. He managed to run the rear offside tyre across a drain cover, making a loud clanking sound that echoed through the cavernous space.

“Easy, Jack! You’ll wreck the tyres doing that. There are sharp edges on those grates.” 

As Jack put his foot down, speeding towards the barrier, he failed to notice the purple smear of squashed leaves and flower buds that stained the floor of the garage. The outer layers of the delicate corollas had been beginning to unfurl, but the tightly packed petals were squashed, bleeding viscous sap onto the dull concrete, the vivid pigments producing a flush of magenta.


	24. Chapter 24

Pulling up on the double yellow lines on City Hall Road, Jack ignored comments from Ianto about getting ticketed. He really didn’t care.

On the opposite side of the road, a variety of marked police vehicles were parked in the bay set aside for their use. Ianto was at least grateful that Jack hadn’t decided to park there. 

As they got out of the SUV and headed for the main entrance, neither man paid any attention to the concrete planters set on the wall alongside the police parking area. If they had glanced across the road they would have noticed, intermingled with the faded pelargoniums and dead begonias, several dense clusters of flimsy looking purple plants. The roadside location had provided a rich supply of exhaust gases for the plants to metabolise. They were flourishing in the stale compost and had produced abundant, arching flower spikes. The dark purple petals, perforated like lace and as delicate as filigree, were beginning to unfurl, exposing swollen blue anthers, ripe with pollen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the entered the grim concrete building, Detective Kathy Swanson was waiting to greet them, but before she got the chance to read Ianto his rights, Jack swiftly took her by the arm and whisked her to one side.

“Before you charge Ianto, we need to have a private discussion – strictly off the record.”

“Harkness! You’re unbelievable.” Kathy tugged her arm free and glared at Jack. “I asked you to bring him in as a courtesy, to spare us all the awkwardness of calling by at your secret base to arrest him. Don’t push your luck.”

“Give me twenty minutes of your time, Kathy and then we’ll go along with whatever you decide,” pressed Jack, throwing an apologetic glance in Ianto’s direction. He was taking a gamble that he really hoped would pay off. “You have my word.”

“Ten minutes.” 

Kathy Swanson was in no mood to allow herself to be pushed around by Harkness, not on her own territory. She was aware of the loathing that many of her colleagues had for both Torchwood and their arrogant leader, but she’d worked with him in the past and had a grudging respect for what he and his team accomplished behind the scenes. But she decided to hear him out. After all, she had her own misgivings about the circumstances that had led to the current situation. As far as she was concerned, something did not ring true.

“Fifteen?” pleaded Jack. “Please?”

“Damn you, Harkness, you’ll settle for ten. If I want to hear more, I’ll let you know. Off the record. Then I’m reading Jones his rights and the questioning begins. You’re not intending to act as his legal counsel as well by any chance?”

“It’s my prerogative as leader of Torchwood to assume that role, as well you know.” 

Wondering if this was something they’d discussed beforehand, Kathy looked at Jones, just in time to catch him swearing under his breath. He didn’t seem any more confident in his boss’s legal skills than she was.

“Fine, if that’s what you’re happy with. I’ll have one of my officers take you to an interview room. I’ll join you shortly.”

Whilst Jack and Ianto were led away, Kathy fetched herself a mug of coffee, making it stronger than usual. Hesitating only momentarily, she shovelled in two teaspoons of sugar and stirred them in quickly. She had a feeling she was going to need both caffeine and energy to deal with Harkness.

As she entered the interview room, Kathy dismissed the young officer who was standing by the door. The two men from Torchwood were sitting next to one another on one side of the table. Standing with her back to the door, she assessed them carefully. She’d not seen Jones close up before, although she had spoken to him on the phone on several occasions when trying to get through to Harkness, he’d always been remarkably polite and had proved exceptionally reliable when it came to passing on messages. His smart suit looked expensive and she wondered how well-paid Torchwood employees were, or whether it was something he’d worn to give a good impression, although the crumpled shirt disproved that theory. His appearance was still considerably smarter than that of the other members of Torchwood she’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting during various odd investigations. 

She didn’t know how many people actually worked for Torchwood. She knew of the cocky Londoner in his scruffy leather jacket and the efficient Japanese woman, both of whom had shown a dismissive attitude to police procedures. Of course, Kathy remembered Gwen Cooper as an ambitious policewoman, partnered with the long-suffering Andy Davidson. Kathy had assumed there was something between Cooper and Harkness, whenever she’d seen them together she could not fail to see the way the woman looked at him with obvious adoration. She’d also seen how frantic Harkness had been when one of his team had gone rogue and nearly killed her. 

However, seeing the way Harkness sat close to Jones, his hand lightly resting on the younger man’s shoulder, Kathy couldn’t help but wonder. The reputation the man had for sleeping his way through the population of Cardiff had preceded him, he’d flirted with her on more than one occasion. But she sensed something more going on between Harkness and Jones, which was likely to prove a nuisance. It was one thing having to charge a member of Torchwood with so much as a parking fine, but if that person happened to be someone special to Harkness, then she expected that she really had her work cut out for her.

“You’re staring, Kathy. I do hope my ten minutes start after you’ve finished eyeing us up.”

“Just trying to figure out what’s going on. I’ve not seen Jones out in the field with you. What exactly is his role in Torchwood?”

“That’s classified.” 

“I bet it is,” sighed Kathy, taking in the tight-lipped smile from Harkness and the way that the younger man’s cheeks seemed to flush slightly. They didn’t need to say a word to confirm her suspicions that Ianto Jones was more than just a member of the team. 

Taking a step forward, Kathy frowned as Jack pushed back his coat sleeve and unclasped a leather strap about his wrist. From where she stood she could see it wasn’t a wristwatch.

“I don’t want this on record, strictly for your eyes only,” stated Jack, looking towards the corner of the ceiling as he pressed a few buttons, smiling once the small red light on the concealed camera dimmed and then went out.

“Are you tampering with police equipment?” demanded Kathy, spinning on her heels to angrily point at the ceiling. “Our budget’s not as generous as yours, and I need that to be in a working condition.”

“It’ll work just fine, once this interview is over.” 

Jack bestowed her with another of his trademark toothy smiles. She wasn’t taken in by his charm, but she could see why he resorted to it as often as he did. To her he came across as a bit too flashy, his looks far too good to be true. It occurred to her that he probably owed his good looks to hair dye, Botox and a private dentist. After all, from what she’d heard, he’d been in charge of Torchwood in Cardiff since the turn of the millennium and had worked there for a lot longer than that. She’d have thought that would have given anyone grey hair and wrinkles. 

Shaking her head, Kathy took a sip of her coffee, placed the mug down in front of her on the table and took a seat. She took her watch off her arm and placed it next to the mug. She could see that the tape recorder had already been unplugged and its back up batteries removed, neatly stacked on the table next to it. Nothing else was on the table apart from a box of Kleenex kept there for distraught interviewees, she’d been accused of being soft by suggesting they keep one there until she explained that it was better than watching suspects smear snot on their sleeves. 

“Your ten minutes start now.”

“Whatever that man told you isn’t the whole truth. Ianto was defending me because I was under attack.”

“Really?” Kathy tried not to sound too incredulous; at least he hadn’t denied the reported crime outright.

“Yes. Tell me, have you got any CCTV at all from last night?”

“Some.”

“Let’s compare what you’ve seen with what I know happened. Did you see me entering that alley way?”

“Yes.” 

“I followed two of your officers. Did you see them go in before me?”

Kathy just nodded, not wanting to give anything away. She had already taken statements from the two officers concerned, who had apparently been checking up on some suspicious behaviour at the far end of Albany Road at the time, before taking shelter from a downpour in a café. They claimed to have heard some loud bangs, but thought they were the sounds of a car backfiring at the time. It had occurred to Kathy that something did not ring true about their accounts and she was intending to follow up her suspicions later on, after talking to Harkness and Jones. 

“Then, a while later you should have seen footage of my colleagues arriving – Gwen Cooper and Ianto.”

“That ridiculous vehicle of yours isn’t easy to miss,” stated Kathy, pausing to take another sip of the strong, sweet coffee. “Go on.”

“Almost an hour later, you would also have seen Ianto helping me back to the SUV, where Gwen was already waiting.”

“Get to the point, Harkness.”

“Please call me Jack.” 

“The point, Jack?”

“This man, who claims to have been shot-” 

“He’s got a shattered ulna and had a bullet dug out of his arm in surgery this morning – I think we can take that as a given.” 

Sighing heavily, Kathy glanced quickly at Jones, she didn’t see any indication of remorse on his face, if anything there was a brief flash of contempt. That interested her – it would seem to confirm that he had intentionally shot the victim. 

“Yes, I shot him,” admitted Ianto, frustrated with the way the interview was going. “ I shot him because he was about to kill Jack!”

“And he couldn’t take care of himself?” Kathy deliberately looked Jack up and down, noting to herself that he virtually exuded testosterone. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“I was badly beaten, critically injured and unable to defend myself,” explained Jack.

As Harkness rubbed his face with one hand, Kathy noted a look of concern on Jones’ face. She could see that his lips were pressed together firmly and she could see from the telltale flick of his eyes up and to his left that he was recalling the scene and that it disturbed him. Although the use of eye movement to detect lies was prone to manipulation, she’d caught him off guard at that moment and the honest anguish she saw in his eyes convinced her that Jack’s statement was, indeed, the truth.

“I have to say, you look fine now.”

“That’s the thing, Kathy and that’s why this has to stay off the record.” Jack leaned further across the table, his voice low and unsteady. He looked at Kathy as if he was about to reluctantly take her into his confidence. “I heal very quickly. I have no traces of those injuries now, but last night I had several broken ribs and severe head injuries that took me a while to recover from.”

“For God’s sake, this is your defence?” exclaimed Kathy. She turned to Jones and fixed him with a glare. “If I was you kid, I’d get a real lawyer, or you don’t stand a cat in hell’s chance-”

“I can prove it.” Jack interrupted, his voice steadier.


	25. Chapter 25

“I can prove it,” repeated Jack, his voice steadier.

“How?”

“I need to get something from my pocket. That OK?” Using slow movements, telegraphing his intentions, Jack reached into an outside pocket of his greatcoat.

“Try anything stupid and I’ll call for back-up.”

“Please – trust me.” Jack showed her the penknife he’d taken from his pocket and opened up the largest blade.

“Harkness! Put that away- now! I’m warning you!” Kathy stood up and backed away towards the door, ready to call for assistance. “How the hell did you manage to get in here armed?”

Jack didn’t bother explaining, he just pressed the tip of the sharp blade into the palm of his hand and pressed down hard. Blood immediately sprung up around the wound and, as he pulled the blade free, more blood welled up inside the cut. 

“Jack!” yelled Ianto, his voice betraying equal amounts of shock and annoyance.

Kathy couldn’t help but note that Ianto Jones appeared angry rather than upset by his leader’s dramatic demonstration. She caught a shared look between the two men as she dashed back to the table, her priority being the weapon, which Harkness threw to one side, making it clear that he had no intention on using it on anyone other than himself. Kicking the knife to one side so that she could close it and pocket it for safety, she grabbed the box of tissues. The look she’d observed between Harkness and Jones was something she’d file away for later consideration.

“What the hell do you think you’re up to?” Kathy growled as she began to apply pressure to the wound with a handful of tissues.

“It’s OK – trust me.” Jack winced and then tugged his hand free of the well-meaning ministrations of the detective.

Kathy Swanson watched, fascinated, as the bleeding came to a halt and the edges of the cut drew together, the flesh knitting together before her eyes. Harkness took the tissues she’d dropped on the table and used them to wipe clean the surface that he’d bled on and then his hand itself. She could have sworn she heard Jones mutter something like ‘bloody exhibitionist’.

“Nice trick there,” observed Kathy, trying to sound calm. “Is that something Torchwood is working on?” 

“No – just me. It doesn’t just work on simple cuts. I could shoot myself and that would heal too, but that would take more than few tissues to clean up.”

“So, let’s get this straight.” Kathy took a deep breath as she looked from the bloodied tissues to the unblemished hand that Harkness was holding up for her to see. “Last night, you were assaulted, and Jones here took a shot at the attacker to defend you?”

“That’s right,” sighed Jack, grateful that it seemed as if he’d finally got through to her.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Jack looked confounded.

“If you just miraculously heal up again, why would anyone put themselves at risk defending you? It doesn’t make - ”

Kathy Swanson was surprised when Jones interrupted her, up until that point he’d left all the talking to Harkness.

“Just because he heals fast, doesn’t mean he doesn’t get hurt or that he doesn’t suffer pain.” Ianto looked up at Kathy and met her gaze full on, his pale blue eyes bright with the intensity of his feelings. He wasn’t shouting, but his voice carried, strongly accented and tinged with anger. “That bastard had caved Jack’s skull in with a bloody exhaust pipe and was about to finish him off – we told him to drop the pipe, we warned him we were armed, but he didn’t stop. What would you have done?”

Kathy Swanson sat back, startled by the emotional display from the previously quiet man. She also noted the glare that Harkness gave him and the one returned. There was a spark of something between these two men. Her earlier assumption that he was yet another notch on the bedpost for the apparently insatiable Captain Harkness needed to be modified, it would seem that his relationship with the leader of Torchwood was far more complicated than that. 

“This isn’t about me. This is about an accusation of aggravated assault from a badly injured man. If what the two of you say is true it’s your word against his – and there’s absolutely no proof that any injuries were inflicted on him.” Kathy jabbed a finger in Jack’s direction. 

“Exactly,” stated Jack. “That’s why you have to drop this charge.”

“Can’t be done.”

“This is Torchwood business and I have authorisation-”

“Is it Torchwood business? Were you conducting an investigation when you were attacked?”

“No.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Was the man who attacked you involved in one of your cases?”

“Not directly, but-”

“Then what the hell is going on here? Because from where I’m sitting it looks like the guy in hospital has got a valid case – it does look like you were harassing him. You took him on, got knocked down and your sidekick here came to your assistance and shot him – that’s what it looks like.”

“He was obstructing an investigation-”

“And that’s how Torchwood deal with people who get in their way?”

“No!” yelled Jack, his patience having been finally tested to breaking point. “You know me better than that – look through the records, the only civilians ever shot by Torchwood, on my watch, have been directly implicated in criminal activity. The Brecon-”

“Beacons? Yeah – I read the reports on that one. Not one villager suffered fatal gunshot wounds, although the paramedics were kept busy for hours afterwards.” 

Resting her elbows on the table and folding her hands under her chin, Kathy noticed that Jones had suddenly got a lot paler. Harkness also turned as if to check on him, patting his knee gently. She assumed that he was getting more nervous about the charges to be brought against him and that was perfectly understandable, all things considered. 

“OK, I get it, the vendetta angle isn’t your style. I’m sorry, but I have a duty to investigate this.”

“So, you’re not prepared to drop the charges?”

“Jack – I’m sorry, it’s too late for that. I have to pursue this and unless you’re willing to stand up in court and explain to the judge and jury how you got injured, and then staged a miraculous overnight recovery-”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Didn’t think so. But I have to follow procedure. I’ll see what I can do to persuade the magistrate to issue bail when it comes up before him, but in the meantime I’ve got no choice but to arrest and charge Mr Jones.”

“What if you can’t persuade the magistrate?” asked Ianto, his face now composed as if accepting his fate. 

“Then you’ll be transferred to Cardiff Prison, on remand, until a trial date is set.”

“That’s unacceptable,” growled Jack, no longer hiding his concern as he reached out to grasp Ianto’s hand.

“Your ten minutes was up a while ago, Captain Harkness. If you’d be so kind as to reactivate our cameras, I’ll bring in a colleague and he can go about the formalities of charging Jones.”

“You’re gonna keep him here overnight?”

“Yes – the earliest a magistrate will be able to hear the charge and consider any request for bail will be tomorrow morning.”

“It’s alright, Jack.” 

Kathy was surprised that it was the younger man who was trying to put the normally ebullient Captain Harkness at ease. Yet another clue as to the nature of their relationship.

“No, it’s not. Kathy – I need you to promise me that no harm will come to Ianto if he is detained here.”

“What makes you think there would be?” Kathy was beginning to sense another undercurrent. There was yet more that she wasn’t fully aware of.

“Just promise me.” 

“You have my word, Harkness. I’ll make sure nothing happens to him that shouldn’t.”


	26. Chapter 26

As the lift platform slowly descended into the Hub, it was blatantly obvious that Jack was returning alone. Despite having known that it was a distinct possibility, Gwen had hoped that justice would prevail – even though it tested her faith in both Jack and the Cardiff police force tested to the limit.

“Where’s Ianto?” she demanded, standing feet apart, hands on hips.

“You know damn well where he is,” replied Jack, stony-faced.

“You bastard-”

“Do you think I wanted to hand him over?” Jack advanced on Gwen, almost spitting the words in her face. “Don’t you think I care that he’ll be spending the night in a cell?”

“Instead of warming your bed?” goaded Gwen, refusing to back down. She stood her ground and arched her eyebrows as she challenged Jack. “Yeah, I suppose that would be an inconvenience-”

“Don’t you dare!” 

Jack ground his teeth painfully, determined not to expose just how much her taunts hurt. He knew the reason for her sarcasm was genuine concern about Ianto and he couldn’t fault her on that. Truth be told, he was furious with himself for having got Ianto into this mess in the first place and for allowing him to be taken into custody. On the lonely return journey he’d barely been able to glance at the empty passenger seat without a wave of guilt washing over and threatening to drown him.

“Oi – calm down the pair of you – fighting isn’t going to help Ianto is it?” 

Owen stepped between the two most volatile members of Torchwood, taking hold of Gwen by the arm and pulling her away from Jack. He knew she meant well, but she’d totally failed to read the subtle tells, the way Jack had entered the Hub, head down and shoulders tense, jaw clenched and eyes not quite focused. He could see that Jack was as close as he’d ever been to striking Gwen and there was no way he was going to let the situation degenerate any further. 

“Gwen, just let it go for now. Tell you what - why don’t you and Tosh go and grab a bite to eat and leave me to update Jack on what we’ve found out whilst he’s been out?”

“Owen-” bristled Gwen, reluctant to let the matter drop.

“Good idea, Owen,” interrupted Tosh. “Don’t know about you, Gwen, but I’m starving and I could do with a break.” 

Tosh had been watching from the sidelines, but had caught the way that Owen had emphasised her name, a hint that he wanted her to help defuse the situation. 

“We could just go to the café at the Millennium Centre – won’t take long to grab a sandwich and a coffee. Come on, Gwen, you need a break too, we’ve been at this non-stop.”

“Alright – but no more than twenty minutes, OK?” Gwen’s resolve to make life even more uncomfortable for Jack weakened, the hollow sensation in her stomach betraying her and she knew that if she didn’t stop to eat neither would Tosh. 

“Half an hour – come on.” Tosh was not about to make compromises, apart from anything else she knew that Owen needed to have enough time to talk to Jack before they got back. “These two may be able to keep going for hours without a break, but we’re mere mortals. I need caffeine and maybe some chocolate fudge cake – what do you say?”

“Those are sneaky tactics, Tosh! You know I can’t say no to chocolate – come on then. Owen, if there are any developments while we’re gone-”

“I’ll call you. You have my word, now go – both of you.”

Owen stood patiently in front of Jack whilst the two women collected their jackets and purses and headed for the exit. He could feel the other man’s eyes boring through him.

“Did I put you in charge and forget to memo myself?” asked Jack, attempting to strike a belligerent pose.

“Not exactly. However, until you start acting like a leader again, someone has to keep the peace and the best man for that is detained elsewhere.” 

Owen sat down on the sofa and motioned for Jack to join him. 

“Sit down and tell me what the deal is – do we need to start baking cakes with skeleton keys inside?” 

Jack laughed, appreciating Owen’s attempt to lighten his mood. He folded in on himself as he collapsed onto the sofa next to Owen, his head in his hands, relieved that it was just him and Owen. He would never admit to defeat, but it was easier to let down his guard and show how worried he was when he was in the company of just one of his team. Despite having absolute trust in Kathy Swanson, he wasn’t convinced that she’d be able to protect Ianto as much as she believed she could.

“That might not be a bad idea. DI Swanson is dealing with the case, which is good news, she’s honest and fair, but she still had to go ahead and charge him. He’s up before the magistrate tomorrow and Swanson said she’d support my bid to have him released on bail until it either goes to trial or we get the whole damn thing dropped.”

Jack rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath in an attempt to gain control. 

“In the meantime I could really do with some good news. What have you got for me?”

“Alien plant news or bent copper updates?”

“Start with the plant.” 

Jack sighed as it occurred to him that Ianto had suffered as a consequence of both, but it had been the plant that had nearly killed him.

“Tosh’s program located all patches of vegetation growing on the tops of buildings in a one-mile radius around Albany Road. Nothing suspicious, but it could look just like any other weed – we haven’t got a clue what we’re looking for. Nothing for it, we’re going to have to search each area, by hand.”

“I’ll take the roofs – Ianto reckons I’m good on roofs.”

“Really? I don’t think that’s something I want to picture somehow.” Owen nudged Jack in the ribs with his elbow, determined to drag him out of his wistful melancholy.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Ianto is very strict about me not sharing any pictures-”

“Strict? Ianto?” Owen asked, looking thoroughly bemused at the idea of Ianto setting down the rules for Jack.

“Oh yeah … Ianto can be very … strict, when he puts his mind to it.” Jack smirked as he looked up at Owen, grateful for the images conjured up to replace those of Ianto being cautioned in the police station.

“Enough, Harkness, the less insight I have into your weird relationship the better.” 

Owen would never admit to being envious of the fact that the two men had grabbed what they could get inside Torchwood, neither stupid enough to leave it until it was too late. 

“We might not know where those plants are, but Gwen made a small breakthrough on the police problem – the bloke that Ianto shot? Brian Morris. He’s got a cousin in the police, who just so happens to be one of the two coppers you wanted to have a word with last night.”

“What?” Jack snapped. “I’m going to have to talk to that bastard-”

Jack leaned forward as if to get up, only to be restrained by Owen’s outstretched arm.

“Oh no you don’t. You need to stay as far away from him as possible. You’d probably end up scaring him to death and, before we know it, Ianto will be up on a murder rap. Don’t you think he’s in enough shit as it is?”

“Damn. I really, really want to hit someone right now.” Jack growled, his eyes flashing with anger. “I don’t give a damn about the police guard –” 

“Again – not going to help Ianto.” Owen reiterated. “But we can use that information if they try to pursue this charge, alright?” 

“Maybe – but in the meantime it doesn’t do much to help Ianto, does it?” 

Jack was beginning to see why Gwen was so upset at Ianto having been arrested. If the cousin of the man he’d shot was in a position where he could get to Ianto, he wasn’t safe. 

“That does it, I want you and Gwen to go visit Ianto first thing in the morning, unannounced. He has the right to see his own doctor, and you need to check up on him after his collapse – yes?”

“Yeah, that’s a good plan. But why take Gwen?”

“Gwen knows her way around the police station, she can make sure you take the shortest route to get to the cells. Let’s just hope they don’t assault him again before we get there. If they’ve laid a finger on him I want proof of it this time.”

“Hang on a minute – what’s with ‘again’ and ‘this time’?” demanded Owen. He wasn’t reassured by the crestfallen look on Jack’s face.

Jack’s expression darkened. Knowing that the cousin of the man Ianto had shot worked at the police station made him even less sure that Swanson could ensure his safety as she’d promised. The thought of Ianto being incarcerated, unarmed and essentially defenceless in a cell overnight worried him. He was far too vulnerable.

“The last time he got arrested he was verbally abused, roughed up a bit and then tripped so he fell down a flight of stairs.” 

“Fuck! Why the hell wasn’t I told about that at the time?” exclaimed Owen. “Did he receive treatment for any injuries?”

“He tried to hide them from me and figured you’d give him hell over it. I cleaned up the cuts and treated the bruising. There weren’t any internal injuries, I checked with the deep scanner-”

“So good to know my services aren’t needed, Doctor Harkness… next time any of the team needs patching up, I’ll just leave it to you shall I?”

“Drop the attitude, Owen. You were taking the piss out of him for having got arrested – are you surprised that he didn’t want to let you know what else had happened to him?”

“I might have had a bit more sympathy for him! So about this abuse - homophobic by any chance?” 

“Yeah, I guess so, from what I got out of him. How did you-?”

“Your reaction to what was written on the SUV, when you looked at the CCTV images before Ianto got it cleaned it up and the fact that you assumed the police were behind that.”

“What? How-?” Jack was confused, he'd never made those suspicions known to Owen.

“Jack, we talk to each other behind your back, trying to figure out what the fuck you’re up to half the time. Ever since you pulled that disappearing stunt, we’ve made sure we compare notes on a regular basis. We might not have a fucking clue why you’re doing what you’re doing, but we do have a bloody good idea when, where and how.”

“Oh.” Jack looked offended and then hurt. “What about Ianto? Is he in on this?”

“No – ever since he let Gwen know about Flat Holm he’s not been so keen to share. But he can be tricked into revealing more than he’d like to. Tosh has ways of making him speak.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Probably. I know I am. She’s a wicked woman and Ianto has appreciated that for far longer than I have.”

“Talking of whom – sounds like the girls are back.” 

Jack heard the sounds of two sets of potentially deadly heels clipping the floor as Tosh and Gwen stepped off the perception-filtered lift platform, arm in arm.

“That was quick.”

“Been out for twenty-five minutes, Jack.” Gwen handed over two brown paper bags and a handful of white, paper napkins. “Tosh bought you a tuna salad baguette and a piece of the chocolate cake – I said we should let you starve, but she didn't want to give Ianto anything else to worry about. You don’t deserve either of them.”

“I know I don’t. I’m sorry, Gwen.”

“Me too. It’s just that I am so bloody pissed off that they arrested Ianto. You are applying for bail aren’t you, Jack?”

“Yes, dammit. Of course I am – it’s his best chance right now. But it does mean he has to stay in a cell overnight and no, I’m not happy about that, not at all. But it was Ianto who insisted we played by their rules.”

“So that’s why you asked for the lenses that Martha used?” asked Tosh, suddenly remembering that Jack had asked her to hand them over shortly before he’d set off with Ianto.

“Yes. Ianto said you’d got the optical components working again.”

“Yes, the radiation surge at the Pharm fried the bioelectronics, but I’ve sorted them so they can transmit visual signals and receive text input now. I’ve also managed to recalibrate the lip-reading software.”

“I know – Ianto told me. Can you have the signals routed through my personal computer as well as any associated software.” Jack pushed back his sleeve to check the time. “Check it’s working properly.”

“I’ll get straight onto it.” Tosh nodded her head quickly and then set off to do as Jack had requested. She felt better having a specific task to work on.

“What are they charging him with?” Gwen sat down on the coffee table and looked at Jack more sympathetically. She brought to mind what Tosh had said over a cup of tea and cake - that Jack would do whatever he could to look out for Ianto. 

“Wounding with intent to murder. No wonder Ianto prefers to use a stun gun to one with bullets.”

“Shit. There are huge government initiatives prompting forces to tackle gun crime. That’s not going to help Ianto.” Gwen sighed, not wanting to spell out just how valuable each successful prosecution was to the local police when it came to reaching their ‘targets’. She was aware of how much Jack hated politics and politicians at the best of times.

“Jack – what the hell’s going on with the police?” Owen asked the question they all wanted an answer to.

With all eyes on him, wanting to hear what Jack had to say, he felt cornered, yet compelled to be honest with his team.

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s serious. We need them on side. They moan and bitch about us – always have, but never before have they directly interfered or stood in our way. The fact that Ianto got arrested last month, despite identifying himself as Torchwood, that’s unprecedented. I’ve had Gwen look into the issue, but she’s not found anything – apart from a few coincidences that don’t wash with me.”

“Such as?” prompted Owen.

“The same guys patrolling Albany Road when the SUV got clamped and egged, the ones I was looking out for last night – there’s something dodgy about them. Now you tell me that the guy who beat the crap out of me is related to one of those coppers – and he’s the one pressing charges against Ianto. I wouldn’t mind betting they were all involved with his arrest after that weevil sighting near that club.”

“What the fuck is this all about?” asked Owen, frowning. He knew he was guilty of treating the local police with contempt, but it was give and take – never anything malicious on either side. 

“It has to go back to the loss of the four senior police officers to weevil attacks,” stated Gwen. “That’s when this all started.”

“You mean when Hart and…” Owen faltered, not wanting to bring up the name of Jack’s brother and all the associated grief.

“Yes,” confirmed Gwen, also reluctant to go into the details.

“There are two ways of looking at that.” Jack narrowed his eyes as he considered the implications. “Either the men lost-”

“Men and women.” interjected Gwen. “Senior police officials don’t necessarily have to be male.”

“OK … well I was just going to say that I doubt they were that well loved that we’d suffer this kinda backlash, but I guess I could be wrong.”

“Bollocks.” Owen held up a hand, putting a halt to what he could tell was pointless speculation. “Call me cynical, but it strikes me that if the loss of these top cops has had such a devastating effect on inter-agency relations, it’s probably because they were either taking backhanders or involved in a racket of some sort – something that’s gone to shit now they’ve been replaced. It’s not like we’re doing anything to piss them off any more than usual.”

“What?” Gwen was taken aback. “That hadn’t occurred to me – I never even considered that.”

“That’s because you aren’t as cynical as I am,” explained Owen. “I wouldn’t mind betting it’s drugs.”

“Well done, Owen, your cynicism may well have given us a lead.” Jack slapped Owen on the back and grinned, Ianto had been right about getting Owen to investigate the police problem. “Get onto it, both of you! Find out everything you can about the officers killed by weevils that night. Dig up every last ounce of dirt you can find. While you’re at it look for links with Morris – anything to discredit him or his family may help get those charges against Ianto dropped.”


	27. Chapter 27

Peering at the image on the screen of his computer, Jack was wondering whether he should call Tosh to ask her what the hell was going on – it was darkened, with virtually no detail to be seen. After the damage the lenses had suffered at the Pharm he’d left it to Tosh to do what she could to get them functioning once more and, although she’d yet to reconfigure the audio capability, she’d reassured him that visual signals were working well. He frowned and then had an idea. He typed a simple message:

R U OK?

The image flickered, bright flashes of light shut off quickly once more. Ianto must have his eyes shut. Then Jack felt guilty – what if he’d been asleep? Then again, what if he was unconscious? What if those bastards had already done something to him and Swanson hadn’t been able to protect him after all. Jack’s mind began to conjure up a series of scenarios, each one more panic-inducing than the last.

Gradually the dark screen in front of him was replaced by a sequence of brighter images: bare walls, marked with unidentifiable stains and cracks in the plaster, a solitary fluorescent tube flickering on the ceiling and finally a dented metal door, its paintwork scratched and chipped.

Sighing with relief that the shifting perspective meant that Ianto was awake and mobile, Jack still harboured concerns regarding his state of health. He needed to know if Ianto had just been resting his eyes or if there was a more ominous reason why he was on his back with his eyes shut.

BLINK x1 = YES x2 = NO  
RU OK?

The bright light was cut off instantly and then a second or two later returned. Jack sighed with relief.

RESTING?

One blink.

LET ME SEE ROOM

Ianto slowly sat up and looked slowly around his cell, from the door on one side to the extremely basic toilet facilities. He pushed himself away from his uncomfortable bench to let Jack see the thin, plastic covered mattress that would serve as a bed for Ianto that night. No blankets were in sight. Jack hoped it was warm in there, although he doubted it, he could see that Ianto still had his jacket on. If they’d have thought things through logically, they would have made sure he was dressed in something more suitable for an overnight stay in a prison cell.

Jack was frustrated, he wished they could talk. As expected, Ianto hadn’t been allowed to keep his phone, which he’d handed over to Jack, not wanting the police to get their hands on the numbers he had stored on his mobile. Jack glanced to the side of his desk, the area set aside for Ianto to perch on, devoid of paperwork, now occupied by the missing man’s mobile and his stopwatch. The antique time piece had been left on Jack’s pillow for him to find when he returned to his quarters, the inherent message making Jack’s heart hurt a little bit more than it already was. It had been left running, ticking away the minutes until Ianto could return to press the button on the top.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack sat up all night at the desk in his office. Although his quarters still smelt of Ianto he didn’t want the comfort, not having seen the thin mattress that Ianto would be spending the night on, it seemed wrong. He’d spent a while just watching the image of the ceiling, imagining he was lying next to Ianto. He could tell that Ianto was falling asleep, the periods of time when there were images being relayed were getting shorter and further apart. Conversation was limited when all Ianto could do was to blink once or twice, especially when it became more and more obvious that he was having difficulty remaining awake at all.

Jack idly wondered if any text messages sent when the wearer of the lenses was asleep would subconsciously enter the other person’s mind, or whether they’d just wake them up. He risked sending one quickly, just to let Ianto know he was thinking of him and then sat back, keeping a vigil on Ianto. If anyone disturbed his sleep, Jack swore that he would be crashing through the doors of the police station within minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright and early the next morning, Gwen brought in coffee and bacon rolls, knowing that Jack had probably stayed up all night and wouldn’t have bothered to get anything to eat. She wasn’t surprised to find Tosh already hard at work, Owen at her side. She was pleased to see them close.

“Jack – coffee and food – come and get it!” yelled Gwen in the direction of Jack’s office door. 

She dumped the assorted bags onto the coffee table and took one of the hot, greasy rolls for herself. She didn’t care about saturated fat content or calories; she wanted the comfort that salty, fatty foods delivered without fail. The added ketchup that oozed from between the two halves of the crusty white bread made it even more indulgent. She didn’t realise that she had been making obscene noises of appreciation until Owen coughed loudly and glared at her.

“Bloody hell, you’re an evil cow, Cooper, bringing in bacon butties – I bet you got them from my favourite greasy spoon didn’t you?” demanded Owen.

“Sorry, Owen, you’ve only yourself to blame for introducing us to its dubious delights. Tosh – I got one for you as well, if you want it.”

“Thanks, Gwen but I’ve already had breakfast – give mine to Jack. I don’t think he ate at all after he came back here from the police station-”

“Thank you, Tosh – and Gwen. God, that smells good.” 

Jack scooted down the stairs at break neck speed, coat tails flapping in his wake, the smell of the bacon no doubt luring him from his pit, which had been Gwen’s plan all along. He snatched one of the brown paper bags, already soaked with grease, from the table and wrapped his mouth around the bacon roll. It never ceased to amaze his team just how much he could cram into his mouth at once. Smacking his lips loudly with relish he licked the spilt ketchup from the corners of his mouth, before smiling at Gwen.

“Excellent idea, Gwen, thanks for this. As soon as I’ve eaten, I’m going to call Swanson and see when Ianto’s due to be called up before the magistrate. Actually, skip that, Tosh, can you check on the police internal server, find out when the judge will be hearing charges? I don’t want them trying to catch us out. Whilst you’re at it, pull up the feed from those lenses.”

“No problem, Jack.” Tosh smiled to herself, she’d been keeping an eye on Ianto since she’d got in, not to mention the one-sided conversation that Jack had been texting since he’d first opened his eyes that morning. “He’s still lying down. Nobody’s been to see him yet.”

“Good, the sooner I can fetch him home the better I’ll feel.” Jack was relieved that Ianto’s night had been undisturbed, but he wouldn’t be happy until Ianto was back in the Hub.

“That’s assuming they’ll let you post bail.” Owen grunted, not liking to put a downer on Jack’s optimism, but wanting him to stay in touch with reality. 

“They will – and I can put my hands on whatever they ask for.” Jack pulled a large roll of banknotes from an inside pocket of his coat and winked expansively at Gwen.

“In cash?” Gwen swallowed the last remnant of her breakfast quickly for fear of choking on it as she tried to work out just how much money Jack was holding in his fist.

“That way they can’t demand to wait for payment to clear first, all they need do is count it out.”

“Didn’t it occur to you that walking into a courtroom with a huge roll of crisp fifty-pound notes makes you look like a gangland boss and not a respectable servant of the crown pleading for bail on behalf of his employee?”

“She’s got a point, Jack – that’s not going to look good.” Owen shook his head, wondering just how much money Jack had accumulated over the decades.

“Oh – I hadn’t thought of it that way. Dammit.” Jack frowned, he had just wanted to expedite matters to get Ianto back as soon as possible, and he’d not considered how it might look to a magistrate. “Cheque then?”

“No, Jack. What about-” 

Whatever Gwen had been about to suggest was instantly dismissed as Tosh swore loudly and very uncharacteristically. 

“Oh shit!” Tosh exclaimed. Her hands trembled slightly, so she mistyped the usernames and passwords she needed to key in to access reliable sources that would confirm what she’d just discovered. 

“What is it? Please don’t tell me we’ve got rift activity – not today!” Gwen’s eyes watered slightly at the sheer bloody-mindedness of the universe that threatened to keep them from being there for Ianto when he needed them the most.

Tosh didn’t reply immediately, she just stared at her monitor and repeated her attempts to key in the correct sequence of passwords to access more secure sources. All the time, muttering to herself as her fingers flew rapidly across her keyboard. 

“Tosh – report!” ordered Jack. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the Rift – not until he’d got Ianto back where he belonged. From where he was standing he could see the image from inside Ianto’s cell, nothing had changed, so at least that wasn’t the cause of Tosh’s distress.

“No, I’m not picking up any rift activity – but there’s been a state of emergency declared at the Central Police Station – press releases to the local radio and television state there’s been a gas leak, but the feed I intercepted to the emergency services requests assistance for possible CBRN-

“Oh my God, that means ...” Gwen bit her trembling lower lip, unable to continue.

“– they suspect chemical, biological, radiological or nuclear attack.” Owen spoke the words that gave the acronym its power.

“Shit, they must suspect terrorism – what the hell’s happened?” Gwen had dashed across to stand behind Tosh, she couldn’t believe that the Cardiff police had been targeted for a terrorist attack, it didn’t make sense to her.

“I’m trying to find out, Gwen.” Tosh snapped, infuriated at her inability to find out exactly what was going on. “As soon as I access one source it goes down on me, they’re closing down communications. All I’ve found out is what assistance has been requested.”

“Tosh – what have you got?” Jack demanded, moving Gwen out of the way so he could lean over Tosh’s workstation. He stared in horror at the ‘Access Denied’ windows that were popping up faster than Tosh could breach the multiple layers of defences that were springing up in response to the perceived threat. 

“No details on casualties, but at least ten ambulances have been confirmed as being on their way and more have been requested. Two fire appliances have also been deployed and, from what I can piece together, an urgent request was placed with the Army for a CBRN response team.”

“If it’s not the fucking rift, what the hell is going on? Ianto’s inside that bloody place!” Owen pointed at the virtual brick wall that lay between the team and their friend. “I don’t believe in coincidences any more than you do, Jack. I smell a rat – a stinking rat.”

Jack had his phone out, desperately trying to get in touch with Kathy Swanson, only to be put straight through to voicemail.

Gwen had galvanised herself and grabbed her own phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. She moved across to her own workstation, cradling her hands around the mobile to keep out the sounds of Jack shouting at his phone and Owen cursing loudly. Within minutes she was talking animatedly to the person on the other end of the line. Looking up to Jack she gave a quick report:

“I’ve got through to Andy– he was in his way in to work, says there are ambulances and fire engines arriving. No-one else has been allowed in, nobody can get in or out of the station, including any off-duty police officers, they’ve just been told to join the barricades keeping the public out. Andy says that all he’s been told is that there’s been a gas leak… hang on, there are some ambulances leaving now, lights and sirens on … Andy? Are you there? OK – let me know if you find out anything, please. Take care, pet.”

Gwen looked shell-shocked and stared at Jack, hoping he’d be the one to make sense of it all.

“Right – Tosh, keep at it, if anyone can break through those firewalls, it’s you – find out what’s going on. Gwen – get to the hospital, push it all you can, I need to know what kind of medical emergency this is. You stand more chance of getting answers than Owen now. Find out whatever you can, take pictures, send them back here. Owen- you’re with me, enough is enough, we’re getting Ianto the hell out of there.”

“Jack – didn’t you hear me? They’re not letting anyone in or out!”

“Do you really think they’re gonna be able to stop me, Gwen?”

Jack looked from one member of his team to the next, chin tilted up, jaws clenched and eyes blazing. He exuded righteous fury and was ready to throw all the authority at Torchwood’s disposal to get into that police station. Nothing on earth was going to get in his way, not now.


	28. Chapter 28

Ianto was lying on his front, arms folded under his head as a makeshift pillow gazing at the locked door. Since Jack’s lewd commentary had scrolled across his eyes earlier that morning he’d found himself severely pissed off – he knew that Jack had just been trying to distract him but getting a hard on whilst locked up in a cell wasn’t at all comfortable for a whole host of reasons. Once Jack had signed off, with the words ‘Gwen’ and ‘bacon butties’, he’d resorted to focusing on images guaranteed to remedy the tightness of his trousers. He was relieved to have mentally eradicated the problem when he heard footsteps approaching the door he was staring at, followed by the sound of keys jangling as the door was unlocked. He blinked several times, hoping that someone back at Torchwood was monitoring his situation, despite nothing having happened for several hours. 

No text messages appeared. That worried him. Maybe there had been a rift alert, perhaps the team had grown tired of waiting for something more exciting to happen than seeing him take a piss. All such anxious thoughts of what was happening back at Torchwood were instantly dispelled as a heavy-set man burst into the small room and dragged him forcibly off the bench he’d been lying on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gwen had been the first to set off on her mission and just as Owen and Jack were about to leave through the cog wheel door, Tosh yelled out, calling them back urgently.

“It’s Ianto!”

Torn between needing to know exactly what was happening and wanting to get to the central police station instantly, Jack growled under his breath and then ran back to Tosh’s workstation. Not for the first time he cursed the Doctor for disabling his wrist strap – he could at least have left the damn teleport function operational.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“On your feet, Jones! You’re going to tell me what the fuck you lot have done this time. Bloody Torchwood, you bastards can’t stop screwing things up!”

“What?” 

Ianto tried to step back from the man whose hands were curled into fists around the lapels of his suit jacket. The man’s eyes were bloodshot, and his breath stank of stale cigarette smoke and cheap beer. He looked vaguely familiar, bulky with thinning hair. Ianto hoped that someone back at the Hub was getting this. Trying to remain pragmatic, he thought that at least they should be able to identify his assailant. 

“What are you talking about?”

Without warning, he was slapped hard around the back of his head, shoving him closer to the man with the bad breath. In the periphery of his field of view Ianto could see another figure standing to one side, taller and wirier than the one in front of him, but equally intimidating, his sleeves rolled back to show forearms luridly covered with tattoos that looked as though they’d been there a while. 

Ianto’s arms were pulled back and twisted up behind his back, preventing him from moving. For a brief moment he considered head butting the man in front, stamping on the instep of the man behind him, and then finishing them both off with a series of well placed kicks to their groins. However, he sacrificed his instincts for self preservation in favour of giving the impression that he was as weak as they assumed. It occurred to Ianto that they might actually give something away if he let them rant on at him, perhaps something to help the team get to the bottom of what was going on.

“Don’t talk bollocks!” Spittle flew from the angry policeman’s mouth, causing Ianto to jerk his head to one side in disgust. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Ianto spoke slowly, in the vain hope that his words would sink in better if he spaced them out slightly and pronounced each one as clearly as he could. He focused on the mouth of the man in front of him, hoping that Tosh’s lip-reading software was still working.

“Let me put it this way – you tell us what Harkness has done this time and maybe we won’t put you in hospital.”

NOT US!

Ianto blinked once, slowly, trying to let whoever was watching this back at Torchwood’s base realise that he had understood. He was relieved that it confirmed that someone was following this and that they were able to work out what was being said to him.

“How the hell would I know? I’ve been locked up if you hadn’t noticed, or didn’t that occur to you, detective?”

DON’T ROLL YOUR EYES!!!

“Don’t get smart with us, pretty boy.” 

BE CAREFUL!

“I really have no idea what you’re on about.” Ianto didn’t have to act, he was genuinely in the dark. “Give me a clue.”

“You expect us to believe that? Within hours of pulling in one of Harkness’s team – his special playmate no less- there’s been an attack. What was it? Gas? Something in the water? Come on you piece of shit – tell us what it was!”

“Gas?” Ianto repeated, wondering what had happened while he’d been locked up. If Torchwood knew then surely someone would have given him the heads up. The man behind him was forcing his arms further up his back, intensifying the pain in his shoulder joints, causing him to wince.

“There are at least thirty coppers gasping for breath down in the canteen and more already on the way to the hospital.” As if to help Ianto imagine the scene, the heavy-set man placed a sweaty hand around his throat and began to squeeze. “Those pompous, spineless wankers they sent in to run this place have declared a state of emergency. That means not a fucking stone will be left unturned until they find out what caused this. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell us what your fucking boyfriend has done this time.”

“I told you – I don’t know!” Ianto protested hoarsely. The external pressure on his throat was exacerbating the soreness he was still recovering from. Then it dawned on him – the plants. Whatever had affected him and the other victims had been released here at the police station somehow, but on a much larger scale. With any luck Tosh would be monitoring this. She’d make the connection even if the others didn’t. 

“Fine, play it that way.” Loosening his grip around Ianto’s neck the burly copper let go of him and moved away slightly. He nodded in the direction of the man holding Ianto’s arms as if signalling him to release him as well. Then he smiled, an insincere twisting of lips that didn’t look in the least bit friendly. “I’ll be back later… but maybe we can leave you with something to help jog your memory?”

“What-?”

Before he could complete his question, Ianto was spun around until he was facing the wall. Despite struggling to resist what was happening to him, he was unable to do anything to prevent his body from being slammed face first into the wall. The pain on impact exploded behind his eyes and nose, and a scream was wrenched from his throat. Behind him he was vaguely aware of running feet in the corridor outside his cell, someone knocking at the door, followed by voices – his attacker lying about him having got violent and needing to be restrained. A few moments passed and then the door clanked shut, the voices fading away into the distance. Opening his eyes he caught sight of bloody smears on the wall. Feeling slightly dizzy he let himself slowly sink to his knees. He wondered where the blood had come from, so he gingerly touched fingertips to his face, they came away bright red with blood. Leaning forward he watched in dissociated curiosity as dark red splashes fell from his face to the floor, splattering as they dripped onto the white floor tiles. Touching one of the drops with his finger tips, he felt the sudden warmth as a larger splash of blood hit the back of his hand. 

Then he suddenly realised that Jack could be watching and he shut his eyes quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bastards!” Jack had smashed his fist down, knocking the paper cups of coffee flying. The sight of Ianto’s shaking hands dripping with his own blood had incensed him. There was no way that somebody wasn’t going to pay for this. 

“Owen – will he be OK?” Tosh asked tentatively.

“Looks like they tried to shove his face through the wall… could’ve broken his nose.”

“There’s so much blood.” Tosh could have kicked herself as soon as she saw the look on Jack’s face.

“Nah – nosebleeds always look worse than they are.” Owen had also caught sight of the way Jack couldn’t look away from the image of Ianto’s blood on his hands and on the floor of his cell. Rather than let on that they’d both seen Jack’s fear, Owen slapped a hand on Tosh’s shoulder as if to reassure her. “Come on Tosh, you’ve seen worse when I took you to see Wales play England.”

“He’s right, Tosh – but even so, they’d better not have broken that nose.” Jack didn’t need to add that he’d break more than a few noses in revenge if they had.

“Silly bugger needs to pinch hard just below the bridge of his nose and to lean forward. He probably knows that already, but it wouldn’t hurt to remind him.” Owen pointed at Tosh’s keyboard.

“Of course,” Tosh quickly typed out the instructions for Ianto, anything rather than look directly at Jack.

“It looks like I was right, Jack – those dickheads are up to something and they’re trying to keep it from their superiors.” Owen put into words what they were all thinking, albeit probably not in quite the same way. “That suggests to me that the people they lost to the weevils were condoning it or had their silence bought –”

“Bribery maybe?” suggested Tosh who was gratified to see that Ianto was following Owen’s advice and the bleeding was slowing down, although she could still detect a slight trembling in his fingers, evidence that he was in fair bit of pain. A quick glance to one side showed that Jack had also observed that, not surprising as he’d been unable to tear his eyes away from her monitor. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles gleamed white.

“Later – right now that’s not helping Ianto. I want you to chase that up later, Tosh. Meanwhile, get some close ups– I want names.” 

Jack sighed as he watched on as Ianto wiped his hands clean of his own blood on his dark suit trousers. It had to be bad for Ianto to deliberately wipe body fluids onto his favourite suit. 

“I’ve got a feeling that was just a warm up, we need to get him out of there before those guys make a return visit. However, I think I know what the cause of the emergency is.”

“You think it’s that plant, don’t you?” asked Tosh having already considered the possibility.

“From what that bastard said to Ianto, it sounds like the same type of reaction, just affecting more people – so I’m guessing either a bigger plant or more of them. Maybe both.”

“Shit – I’ll get onto Gwen and tell her to warn A and E of what they’re probably dealing with. Before we head off for I’ll grab some epinephrine shots first – won’t be a minute.” 

Owen scooted off in the direction of the autopsy bay, calling Gwen on his phone as he rummaged through his medicine cabinet grabbing pre-loaded syringes of adrenaline and stuffing them into a bag. He wasn’t sure when he should break the news to Jack that if Ianto was exposed to the plant for a second time, the effects could be more severe than before, however, he was going to make sure he was ready for any eventuality. 

“Tosh, get Swanson on the line for me – don’t let anyone fob you off, insist on speaking to her. Use every override code we have at our disposal.” Jack took hold of Tosh’s shoulders, and looked her straight in the eye, wanting to make sure she followed his instructions to the letter. “Make it clear that we can help them solve their problem – at a cost. Ask her how many of her fellow officers have collapsed from anaphylactic shock. As soon as you get her on the phone, patch her through to me.”

“Jack – you’re not going to blackmail her are you?” Tosh did a quick double take. She was glad Gwen had already set off for the hospital, otherwise she’d be giving Jack severe grief over this. As it was he’d grabbed the keys to the SUV and was already walking away from her. 

“Too damn right I am.” Jack turned on his heel as he stood by the exit that led to the garage. “I’ve got information they need and they’ve got something of mine that I want back, in one piece.” 

“He’s not a possession,” muttered Owen, as he rushed up the stairs to catch up with Jack.

“No, but he’s still my responsibility and he belongs here… with me,” Jack said quietly and with such conviction that Owen chose not to challenge him on it. 

Jack didn’t wait for a reply; he turned quickly and headed off for the SUV. Behind his back Owen and Tosh shared a surreptitious look, both fully aware that anyone not on Jack’s side was probably harbouring a death wish whether they knew it or not.


	29. Chapter 29

Just as Jack was about to drive out of the Torchwood garage, like the metaphorical bat out of hell, his arm was grabbed roughly turning the wheel sharply.

“Stop!” yelled Owen. 

“What now?” demanded Jack angrily.

“That looks like blood.” Owen was pointing at the dark smear on the concrete floor of the garage.

“Blood?” Jack frowned. “OK – get out quick and check– but I’m not hanging around. If you’re not back in twenty seconds, I’m leaving without you.”

“Got it.” 

Owen flung open his door and darted across to inspect the stain more closely. He was puzzled because it had definitely not been there the previous day, he’d have noticed when he’d scoured the place with Tosh, looking for evidence for whatever had caused Ianto to collapse. 

Crouching down for a better view, Owen realised it wasn’t blood at all, but the squashed remains of a plant. If the squashed remains were anything to go by, it had been a peculiar looking plant, purplish-blue in colour, with thin tendril-like leaves. 

“Oh fuck!” It suddenly dawned on Owen exactly what he was looking at. He waved his arms to get Jack’s attention and shouted out urgently.

“Jack – get your arse over here – now!”

Despite his desire to get on the road as soon as humanly possible, there was something about the urgency of Owen’s demand that persuaded Jack to get out of the SUV, even though he left the engine running.

“We haven’t got time for this, Owen. I don’t want to give those bastards time to pay Ianto a return visit.”

“Me neither, Jack, but this is important – trust me.”

“What is it? Something that came in on the wheels of the SUV?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Owen frowned as he took a pen from his pocket and poked at the grating that covered the drain. “Look – there’s more of it, growing underneath here.”

“And?” demanded Jack. “Is this really a good time to check out the state of the drains?”

“I know you’re in a hurry, but I need to get hold of this thing.” Owen dug deep into his jacket pocket and found a crumpled sample bag. “There’s no way I’m going to risk either Tosh or Gwen touching it – not considering the fact it was probably responsible for nearly killing Ianto.”

“Damn.” Jack dropped down onto his haunches to get a better look at what Owen was dredging out from under the drain cover. 

“It was probably a seed or a spore on top of the SUV. Tosh picked up traces in the bucket Ianto used when he was cleaning the SUV. Chances are he washed it off after pricking his finger on it and it ended up in the dirty water. Looks like it germinated in this bloody drain. Fuck knows what it could have done if it hadn’t got run over. But the good news is that now we know exactly what we’re looking for.”

Owen triumphantly held out an etiolated purplish-blue plant, its pale blue roots torn free from the detritus in which they’d sought anchorage. Not wasting any time, he sealed the remains of the plant in the plastic specimen bag which he sealed quickly. 

“Right, Jack let’s go spring teaboy –we’ve got something to bargain with now.” 

Before Owen had got the door shut, Jack slammed his foot down on the accelerator, propelling the SUV forwards, just brushing his foot against the brake in a token gesture of slowing down for the fraction of a second it took for the barrier to lift out of their way. 

“OK, Owen, are you going to let me in on your cunning plan?” 

“I wouldn’t mind betting there’s a mass of these fucking plants somewhere at the central police station. I reckon they must’ve shed a load of pollen all at once and, just like on Albany Road, within several hours its victims collapsed.” Owen peered at the contents of the transparent bag and grinned. “Thing is, now we know what it looks like and they don’t. We’ve got a bargaining chip.”

“Owen – that’s brilliant.” Jack also grinned, realising the leverage that it gave them. “If I wasn’t driving I’d give you a kiss.”

“That’s alright, spare the lip action for Ianto, he’ll appreciate it more than me.”

Holding on tight with one hand, Owen managed to take a few photos of the plant and sent them back to Tosh, with instructions not to go into the garage. He was anxious to analyse the plant, but it would have to wait until they’d dealt with the situation at the police station. Tucking the sample into a carrying case, Owen belatedly tugged the seatbelt over his chest, although he was in no danger of dying as a consequence of Jack’s driving, he didn’t relish a future with a face that had been through a windscreen and wasn’t going to heal. And the way that Jack was throwing the Range Rover around each corner, with an alarming disregard for centrifugal forces, had Owen gripping the handhold on the door as tightly as possible.

“Look, I know that you’re ready to go in all guns blazing, prepared to kick down every door you came across until they agree to release Ianto, that’s not going to help him. Not while they’ve got him locked up in one of their bloody cells.”

“Maybe not, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better.” Jack grimaced, the image of Ianto’s blood spattered hands still lingering in his mind.

The comm. unit on the dashboard lit up signalling that an incoming call was being patched through from the Hub.

_“Jack – I’ve got DI Swanson on the line for you.”_

“Thanks Tosh, but before you patch her through, tell me one thing- has Ianto had any more visitors?”

_“No, Jack. He’s been left alone.”_

Tosh had kept open the link from Ianto’s lenses and had been monitoring him closely since Jack had left the Hub. In between searching databases for a match on the image of the men who’d assaulted Ianto and trying repeatedly to get through to Detective Inspector Swanson, she’d been sending her friend messages of support and encouragement. 

“Good.” Jack breathed a sigh of relief, glad that nothing more had happened as a result of their delay. “Put her through.”

_“This had better be urgent, Harkness. I’m sure you know that we’ve got an emergency situation here. I can’t afford to waste time talking to you.”_

It was difficult to hear Kathy Swanson clearly as she was apparently outdoors somewhere. There were raised voices that she had to speak loudly to be heard over, not to mention the sounds of sirens blaring in the background.

“Trust me, Kathy, this won’t be a waste of your time – I’ve got some valuable information for you.”

_“Save it, Harkness, I’m not in the mood for your crap – get off this line and stay off!”_

“Don’t you dare hang up on me!” bellowed Jack in his most authoritative tone, the one that refused to be ignored. “If you want to know what you’re dealing with, you’d better start listening to what I have to say.”

_“How do I know I can trust you?”_

“Oh believe me, you can trust me a whole lot more than I can trust you.”

_“What the hell’s that meant to mean?”_

“Ianto Jones – you gave me you word he wouldn’t come to any harm. It really pisses me off when people break their promises to me.”

_“I haven’t a bloody clue what you’re on about and right now I’ve got more important things to worry about than your bloody boyfriend-”_

“Like a whole shift’s worth of coppers collapsing in the canteen for no apparent reason?” Jack spat out with a touch of vindictiveness in his voice.

_“How the hell did you find out about that? That’s classified information!”_

“Oh you’d be surprised at how much I know.” Jack said smugly, pleased that he now had the detective’s undivided attention. “Now let’s talk like civilised human beings. I think we can reach an agreement over this.”

_“You bastard – you’re responsible for this aren’t you? There are rumours flying around the station that this is your work- they’re true aren’t they?”_

“No dammit!” 

Jack was annoyed that the accusations hurled at Ianto in his cell were more widespread than he’d imagined. Yet more evidence that there were forces at work to sully the reputation of Torchwood within the hierarchy of the police. 

“However, I can confirm that it is linked to something we were in the process of investigating, that was before you decided to arrest one of my team.”

_“I don’t have time for this. I’m trying to co-ordinate relief patrols and the emergency teams. If you have information that can help you’d better be prepared to hand it over, otherwise things are going to look even worse for Torchwood than they already are.”_

There was a note of exasperation in Swanson’s voice that told Jack that she genuinely wanted to believe him and work with him, but her back was up against the wall and she was taking a gamble in listening to him at all.

“We’re not the enemy, Kathy. I know that I may have pissed you guys off in the past, but this has to stop. We have to work together.”

_“It’s not just me you’re going to have to sweet talk this time, Jack. What have you got?”_

“Like I said, I can tell you exactly what caused your people to collapse, how to treat them and what you need to look for to prevent any more people being affected. I’m ready to trade that information if you’re willing to co-operate with Torchwood.” Jack didn’t wait for a reply before closing the connection, although he could imagine Swanson’s face.

“If I was her, I’d smack you one. You really do come across as an arrogant git, you know that don’t you?”

“Yeah – it’s what makes me irresistible,” Jack grinned broadly, almost as if he actually believed that to be true.

Owen snorted in disbelief and made a mental note to ask Ianto if that’s what kept him returning to Jack. He somehow doubted it was that. 

The abrupt jolt as the SUV mounted the kerb put a halt to Owen’s musings. Jack had been able locate the position of the phone that Swanson was calling from, thanks to information relayed to them from Tosh, who’d been busy tracing the signal back at the Hub. 

Jack parked on top of double yellow lines as near as he could get to where a slew of police cars were parked across the road preventing closer access. He could make out Kathy Swanson’s figure leaning wearily on the open door of an unmarked police car, her phone in hand as she was no doubt trying to re-establish the connection with Torchwood. As soon as he slammed shut the door of the SUV he caught her attention.

Striding across to meet her, his coat tails flapping about his legs, Owen in his wake, Jack shrugged off attempts made by uniformed policemen to halt his progress.

“Let them through!” yelled Swanson. She moved away from her vehicle and waited for Jack to get closer, her hands on her hips ready to tear him off a strip, yet at the same time suspecting that he really did have answers to their questions. 

“Ready to listen to me?”

“Get on with it. Like I said, bit busy here.”

“OK, I’ll keep it simple. There is a very high probability that what’s happening here is directly linked to a smaller scale incident last month, centred on Albany Road.”

“Albany Road? What incident? Are you talking about your sidekick getting arrested for waving a gun around in a crowded night club?”

“No.” Jack stated firmly. “Eight people were admitted to hospital having gone into varying stages of anaphylactic shock. All had been on Albany Road the previous night, where they had all been exposed to the substance responsible for their illness.”

“But Albany Road is miles from here.” Kathy frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m pretty certain that what’s going on here is down to the same source, but in a larger quantity this time around.”

“What is it then? Gas leak? Toxic fumes? The specialists are on their way, if you know something that would speed up their investigation-”

“I know exactly what the cause is and it’s not a gas. I’ll tell you what it is and all I need in return is for you to release Ianto Jones from custody.”

“I can’t do that-”

“Yes, you can. He can be granted police bail. You could even drop these ridiculous charges if you pushed hard enough.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Blackmail’s a nasty word.” Jack shrugged insouciantly. “Isn’t it, Owen?”

“Yeah. This is more like bartering. After all we’ve got something you want and you’ve got something we want.”

“Make that ‘someone’.” Jack’s eyes narrowed and fixed Swanson in their glare. The false bonhomie was gone and the fact that he’d withhold vital information in exchange for the freedom of Ianto Jones was inescapable. “One of our team that you’re holding on trumped up charges.”

“Who was assaulted in his cell not that long ago,” Owen added, standing at Jack’s side, his stance making it evident that Jack spoke for every member of Torchwood and that it wasn’t just a personal mission.

“What are you talking about?” Swanson demanded, wondering if there had been something in that gossip she’d overheard earlier that morning. She really hoped that no one had been stupid enough to lay a finger on Jones. She also wondered if Harkness had the place bugged, he knew too much.

“We’ve got pictures to prove it.” Owen could tell from the expression on the detective’s face that she was rattled and decided to push it a little bit further. “As his doctor I’ve got a right to examine him anyway, so whether you like it or not, we are going to see him.”

“So what d’you say, Kathy? We got a deal or not?”


	30. Chapter 30

Kathy Swanson attempted the impossible, trying to reason with Jack Harkness.

“No one is meant to be going in or out. We’ve not received the all-clear from the CBRN team yet. They’ve only just arrived on site-”

“I’m sure you could get us in if you put your mind to it.” Jack nodded in the direction of the main entrance as if there was nothing standing in his way.

“First rule of emergency action is never to enter a dangerous situation if there’s a chance you’ll become another casualty for someone to deal with. If this is something concocted by you, how do I know I can get in safely?”

“She’s got a point, Jack.” Owen didn’t like putting the dampers on Jack’s devil-may-care approach, but he could appreciate the detective’s logic.

“Got those face marks to hand?” Jack turned to look at Owen and pointed at the large medical kit he was carrying.

“Yeah, I packed the lightweight ones with microfiltration units. They should filter out any airborne particles, anything from carbon particles to pollen. I’ve packed several adrenaline shots as well – just in case.”

“Excellent – see, we’re covered.” Jack raised his eyebrows as if daring Swanson to find any other reason for refusing him access to the police station.

“What if it’s a gas?”

“Told you – it’s not a gas,” replied Jack, shaking his head.

“I must be certifiably mad, putting my life in your hands.”

“Considering I left the safety of one of my men in your hands I can see where you’re coming from. But seriously, I promise you we know what’s behind this and we can get you inside in one piece.”

“Right then – make that me and one of my colleagues. I’m not going in outnumbered by you lot. And what’s more, you’re not going in with firearms- you can either hand them over to me for safekeeping or lock them in that armoured vehicle of yours, but there’s no way I’m taking you two inside the station with guns. You can leave your earpieces behind as well – no unauthorised communications.”

For a fleeting moment it looked as if Jack was going to refuse to go along with the detective’s conditions, but he knew it would be futile. Apart from anything else, they were wasting time and the longer they spent arguing over details, the more time it gave for Ianto’s assailants to pay a return visit.

“Give it here, Jack, I’ll go lock ’em up.” 

Owen had taken his own handgun from his belt and was gesturing for Jack to hand over his own weapon. Evidently, he had also decided that there was no point arguing, there was too much at stake.

“Fine. Here take the keys, you know which one opens the weapons store?” Jack handed over his Bluetooth to Owen, along with a set of keys.

“Yeah –I’ll check in with Tosh as well, see if she’s heard anything new – won’t be more than a couple of minutes.”

Jack nodded curtly as he handed over his Webley in its holster. He was grateful that Owen was obviously thinking along the same lines as he was and also wanted to make sure Ianto hadn’t been subjected to any further assaults.

“So, Kathy – we have a deal?” Jack spared Swanson a pale imitation of his usual dazzling grin.

“Tell me how we can get support personnel in and out of there safely and I’ll get you in to visit Jones. Anything else will depend on whether or not you’ve been honest with me.”

“Sounds fair enough.”

Jack had to acknowledge that he’d be just as wary in her position, especially if she was demanding access to the Hub. Despite the aggravation involved, at least this way they could get to see Ianto. He was pretty sure that once Swanson saw for herself that she could trust him, and that Ianto had been attacked, then she’d be more prepared to yield to the rest of his demands. 

“Right, Jack, nothing new to report,” called out Owen as he jogged back from the SUV.

“Good.” Jack breathed a sigh of relief. “After you, Detective Swanson.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kathy Swanson was more than a little apprehensive about using the strange looking face mask, the way it seemed to mould to the shape of her face was peculiar and the texture of the warm, opaque material was like nothing she’d come across before. However, she was reassured that the two men from Torchwood were also wearing the same masks, even though the doctor had to be persuaded to wear one. It did seem strange that a medic would need reminding of the need to take a safety precaution, which made her wonder if it was all a con and that the masks were a distraction and would make no difference at all. 

They went in by foot, Swanson and a uniformed constable taking the rear, so they could keep a close eye on the men from Torchwood. Walking along the street opposite the parking bays for police vehicles, all four were oblivious to a series of pale lilac clouds that drifted in the breeze, settling on windscreens and car roofs in a barely visible film. The sunny weather was ideal for the dispersal of the fine powdery pollen and it shimmered in the rays of sunlight that broke through the scattered clouds. If the people dashing around the entrance weren’t so occupied with ferrying sick colleagues to various A&E departments, they might have found the sight quite mesmerising. The last cloud to be dispersed was caught up in a sudden gust of wind and was dissipated before anyone witnessed its short airborne voyage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Showing her ID at the staff entrance, Kathy Swanson led the way to the main reception area and gestured for Jack and Owen to sit down on the chipped plastic chairs bolted to the floor in the waiting area. Neither man complied, they were far too familiar with the tactic of intimidating your opponent by placing them at a lower level than yourself to acquiesce to such a suggestion.

Owen took out a small scanner he’d already programmed to detect the antigens associated with the alien pollen and used it to sample the air around them.

“It’s clear.” He then proceeded to remove his face mask. Even though he’d known that he’d never been in any danger, he had to concur with Jack’s muttered suggestion that it was hardly the time to expose his non-living status to the constabulary of South Wales.

“Right, I’ve got you this far – now I want more answers before I take you to see Jones.” 

Kathy cautiously removed her face mask and looked from one man to the other in quick succession, making it clear that they weren’t getting any further until they gave her more information.

“What?” Jack scowled, despite being secretly impressed. 

Kathy Swanson never failed to surprise him, she had just done exactly what he’d have done. She now had them both on her territory, unarmed and realistically no nearer their goal than they had been before. There was nothing for it but to give in and tell her more about what she was having to deal with.

“If you’re to be trusted, I assume what we’re dealing with is something in the air. Particles of some sort that are big enough to be filtered out by those masks, but small enough to be inhaled. Once the victim breathes them in they trigger off an adverse reaction. Am I right so far?”

“Not bad deductions.” Jack should have known that Swanson hadn’t made it to detective without being able to make astute observations. “I can tell you that it appears to be pollen of some kind. Owen?”

“Yep – except this doesn’t just give someone hay fever. It can set off anaphylaxis in susceptible individuals, which can be fatal if not treated quickly enough.”

“Like nut allergies?” asked Kathy perceptively.

“Yeah – except nastier. Much nastier.”

“So the treatment is similar?”

“Pretty much,” agreed Owen, nodding his head.

“We’ve told you how to avoid being affected and how to treat those already struck down. That seems like more than enough for now.” Jack interrupted, he was growing impatient once more. “We’ll tell you the rest once we get to see Ianto.”

“Hang on a minute, I need to sort things out at the desk first.” Swanson raised a hand gesturing for the two men to stay exactly where they were before she walked quickly across to the main desk. 

Jack strained to hear what she was saying, it seemed that she was issuing orders to be passed onto the paramedics, amongst other commands that he was unable to make out. She then held out her hand and was given a large bunch of keys, despite the evident reluctance of the man behind the desk. The way his eyes shifted nervously to his left made Jack aware that there was something going on that Swanson was unaware of and that made him wary.

Swanson strode back to where Jack and Owen were waiting and rattled the keys at them as if inviting them to join her.

“Coming then?”

“Too damn right we are.” Owen grumbled as he picked up his heavy medical bag and followed the detective through the double doors. 

Holding the door open for Jack, Owen realised he wasn’t directly behind him, but a few paces behind, standing still and quietly gazing back towards the desk sergeant. He was about to harangue Jack for checking out other blokes whilst Ianto was locked in a cell, that was until he caught sight of the expression on Jack’s face. It wasn’t the usual leer he doled out when he saw something he fancied, it was the look he spared for taking in the details of someone that he suspected he’d have to make suffer at some point in the future. Owen squinted as he tried to figure out what was holding Jack’s attention and could see that the police officer was furtively talking to someone on his phone. Why would a policeman be talking to anyone on a personal line when he’d just received instructions from a superior to perform certain tasks? Owen’s senses weren’t the same since he’d been shot, but even he could smell a rat.

“You two coming or what?” yelled Swanson, one hand on hip, keys in the other, looking irritated.

“Yeah – come on Owen, no time to lose!” called out Jack as he dashed past him, shoving the double doors wide open as he sprinted after Swanson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto was sitting on the floor of his cell, his knees pulled up in front of his chest defensively. Tosh had sent a message minutes ago to say that Jack and Owen were on their way in and for him to hold on. He was touched by the simple messages she’d been sending to him, telling him that Jack would sort it out and save him. It made him smile. Earlier on he could have taken on the two bloated thugs quite easily by himself, but his restraint had garnered information that violence wouldn’t have. Ianto was also relieved to hear that Owen had discovered the plant that must have grown from what must have been a seed he’d cut his thumb on. It meant that there was less danger of either Gwen or Tosh going through what he’d been through and now they knew what to look for. 

However, he was growing increasingly irritated sitting helplessly in a cell. He thought he’d had more patience, but it had been a long time since he’d eaten or drunk anything, his stomach hurt and so did his head, the latter partly because the two thugs had tried to put it through the wall of his cell. He tried to recall when he’d last eaten and thought it was probably breakfast from the previous day. Although he had been provided with a cheese sandwich, there was nothing particularly appealing about the sweaty, pale cheese or the sliced white bread that was curling at the corners. One cautious bite proved that, if anything, it tasted worse than it looked. He almost regretted leaving it in the hatchway for removal as that had been the last time he’d been given anything to eat or drink. 

It was warm and stuffy in the small room and Ianto’s breathing was laboured, not helped by the fact that he was having to breathe through his mouth thanks to the damage to his nose. It had eventually stopped bleeding, but the dried blood had blocked both nostrils and he could taste it at the back of his throat. He really hoped that Owen or Jack had brought a bottle of water with them. 

Ianto’s hazy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the door. No voices, just footsteps. Two sets of footsteps, both heavy enough to belong to Jack and Owen. But there was something wrong about the way they sounded, urgent, yes, but hushed as if sneaking up on his cell. Of course, they may have had to make a stealthy approach, but that didn’t tally with what Tosh had told him. Ianto frowned and braced himself as he heard the sound of a key in the lock.


	31. Chapter 31

“Is this the shortest route?” asked Jack anxiously, certain that PC Andy Davidson had taken him via a different route when he’d come to collect Ianto on that ill-fated evening a few weeks ago.

“No – but access is restricted during an emergency situation.” Kathy explained. “As this could have been a terrorist attack, the most direct access to the cells was automatically shut down.”

“Damn,” muttered Jack to himself.

“What is it?” Owen hissed.

“Something about the way that guy at the desk was acting – he was giving us odd looks, too.”

“Bloody hell, you’re Torchwood!” exclaimed Kathy. “There are rumours flying around the station that you’re behind the attack. He was probably just shocked to see me walking in with you in tow and not in handcuffs. Are you always this paranoid?”

“Only when I know that somebody’s out to get me,” snarled Jack in response. “Or, worse, the people I care about.”

“Sounds like paranoia to me. It’s just through this door and we’re back into –”

Kathy didn’t get to finish what she was saying, the unmistakable sounds of a struggle distracted both Jack and Owen, who dashed off without waiting for her. 

“Wait for me!” yelled Kathy, as she ran to keep up with them.

The first on the scene was Jack and the sight that greeted him made him see red instantly. The same two men who had attacked Ianto before were back, evidently to finish what they’d started. The bulkier of the two was sitting on Ianto’s back pinning him down, holding his wrists with one hand in a tight grip to prevent him from struggling too much, the other hand wrapped around his mouth to quieten him, there was blood on that hand and Jack couldn’t tell from where he was standing whose it was. The second man was kneeling by Ianto’s side busy tightening a knot in a tie that had been tied in a noose around Ianto’s neck. The bastards were trying to set it up to look as if Ianto had hanged himself. 

Storming into the confined space, Jack grabbed hold of the man whose weight was crushing Ianto and hauled him to his feet for long enough to slam a tightly clenched fist squarely into his face. It was a brutal punch and Jack felt the man go limp in his grip the moment it connected. That didn’t stop him from landing one more blow before letting the unconscious man fall to the floor in a heap. Jack quickly turned to deal with the man who’d been trying to strangle Ianto. 

However, as soon as the weight had been lifted from him, Ianto had rolled over onto his back and, having the element of surprise on his side, kicked out viciously with both feet, knocking his assailant onto his back. Despite feeling dizzy from oxygen deprivation, Ianto scrambled quickly to his feet and staggering slightly, grabbed hold of the man’s tie and pulled him off the ground enough to swing his fist in a right hook that was sufficiently well aimed to hit the other man’s jaw. It was then that he became aware of Jack’s arm around his waist, stopping him from falling over and pulling him back firmly. 

Although Jack could have intervened earlier and would have happily knocked out this man as well, he was only too aware of Ianto’s need to tackle at least one of his attackers himself. However, he had no intention of watching him fall flat on his face in the process. In the background, Jack heard Swanson summoning back up before she stepped between the Torchwood men and her two disgraced colleagues. She laid a hand gently on Jack’s arm and spoke with authority.

“I’ll take it from here.”

“You saw what they were trying to do-” 

“Yes, I witnessed that. Trust me, they will be dealt with. I’ll make sure they are suspended with immediate effect and have an IPCC case brought against them.”

Owen pushed his way into the crowded cell quickly noticing that Ianto was looking pale and the only reason he was still standing was the fact that Jack was holding onto him tightly.

“Jack – let him sit down. He’s not looking so good.”

Ianto nodded in agreement as Owen took his arm and steered him out of the cell carefully before guiding him down to the floor as he slid down the wall. Jack looked on helplessly; his anger had consumed him so thoroughly that he’d not stopped to check on the state of Ianto beyond grabbing hold of him to keep him on his feet. No wonder Owen chided him for treating the man like a possession. He quickly crouched down on the floor next to the medic who was loosening the makeshift noose from around Ianto’s throat and inspecting his face for anything other than superficial injuries. 

“Hey there – you OK?” asked Jack quietly. He couldn’t help but notice the bloodstained shirt sleeves from where Ianto had tried to stem the bleeding from his nose. Ianto almost looked as if he was going into shock, hardly surprising all things considered. 

Within seconds they became aware of the sounds of many thick-soled boots pounding down the corridor, suddenly a cluster of police officers turned the corner and surrounded them.

“Not them!” barked out Kathy. “In here. Morris and Evans are suspended, pending disciplinary action. I want them confined until they’ve been questioned. Keep them apart and I don’t want anyone to speak with them or to communicate with them in any way. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” It was the officer that Swanson had chosen to accompany her back into the station with Jack and Owen. She trusted him, he was one of her men. 

“Morris might need medical attention when he comes around properly, make sure you monitor any communication between him and the first aid officer. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, ma’am. What about the Torchwood people?”

“My responsibility. Don’t worry about it.”

Jack looked over Ianto’s head to share a smile with Owen. They were closer to getting Swanson to see things from their point of view, a pity that it nearly took Ianto being strangled to convince her. 

As Morris and Evans were led away unceremoniously, Swanson stood silently watching over Jack Harkness with curiosity. He was quietly speaking to his injured colleague, coaxing him to take a sip of water from the bottle his was holding to his lips. For an arrogant, conceited bastard, usually so full of himself, he really looked as if the wind had been knocked out of his sails. If she didn’t know all about his reputation she’d be tempted to think that he cared more for Ianto Jones than he’d cared about anyone for a while. She heard the sound of someone coughing to get her attention and noticed belatedly that Harper had stood up and was pointing in the direction in which her men had just gone.

“I think you’ll find that the bloke Ianto is charged with trying to kill is Morris’s cousin.” 

“I know. To be honest, I already had my suspicions. I checked up for myself. There have been a number of charges against Brian Morris for offences ranging from possession of drugs to GBH that never made it to trial, either the eye witnesses developed last minute amnesia or evidence mysteriously got lost. Seemed odd that he’d be crying foul when he’d got what a lot of folk would say he had coming to him for quite a while now. It wasn’t him getting shot that surprised me so much as the fact that he claimed it was Torchwood that had hit him and not one of the gangs he’s pissed off.”

“For fuck’s sake – if you found out that the bloke was a dodgy witness why the fuck didn’t you release Ianto last night?” Owen blurted out, angry on his friend’s behalf. 

“Procedures – unlike Torchwood, we have them and can’t bloody well ignore them,” explained Kathy, despite wishing she could on occasion. “Like I told Harkness yesterday, all you had to do was appeal for bail-”

“I don’t give a damn about bail, charges or any other nonsense,” growled Jack. “Under Torchwood authority 474317, I’m demanding the release of Ianto Jones. If you dare try to deny that, I shall take this straight to the top.” 

Jack no longer felt any need to practise restraint, he’d had more than enough and there was no way he was leaving Ianto where he was for a second longer. 

“Like I keep saying, I have to do things by the book – you know damn well that as far as that particular ‘get out of jail free card’ is concerned it only covers the release of the leader of Torchwood, along with any other operatives taken into custody for the same offence.” Kathy felt as if she was bashing her head against a brick wall trying to get through to Jack Harkness. “Don’t think I didn’t hear about the drunk and disorderly charges slapped on you and Harper, or the bloody mess you left to be cleared up!”

Owen hoped never to be reminded of the night he’d redecorated a cell with regurgitated Guinness. If he could have gone red with embarrassment he would have done, as it was he kept his head down and concentrated on wiping away dried blood from Ianto’s face. 

“You can’t just use it to get your team off anything from a parking fine to attempted murder at will! The charges still stand until we go to a hearing and under the current circumstances I haven’t a clue when that will be. Look I’m sorry, Jack, but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Hey, Ianto – can you hear me?” Jack cupped Ianto’s jaw and tilted his head up so he could look him in the eye, which was not easy through the strands of hair that fell across his brow.

Ianto nodded and then winced at the pain the action caused. His headache had got worse and the loud argument raging around him was not helping.

“I’m handing over control of Torchwood to you. Owen – you’re witness to this. Ianto, do you accept command?”

Ianto frowned as he tried to figure out what Jack was doing and rolling his eyes in despair as he worked it out, he nodded once more.

“Yep – I accept.” His voice was hoarse, and his vowels sounded decidedly nasal, but it was enough for Jack.

“Owen?”

“Yeah – I witness the transfer of leadership from Captain Jack Harkness to Ianto Jones.” 

“You can’t get away with this stunt!” Kathy Swanson looked outraged. That was the last thing she’d expected him to do.

“Just watch me.” Jack grinned like well-fed shark. “Ianto – the code?”

“Um ..yeah. Torchwood authorisation…. Jones, Ianto – 4-7-4-3-1-7.”

“Now you have no choice but to let him leave with us.” Jack nodded at Owen and they both helped Ianto onto his feet.

“Hey – I need more answers!” Kathy Swanson demanded, furious at Jack’s sleight of hand.

“Don’t push your luck – a few minutes later and those bastards could’ve killed him.”

“I’ll make sure they pay – trust me, I’m a witness to what they were doing. In the meantime, there are innocent coppers here in danger and you can help me save them. You said it yourself, Jack, we need to work together.”

“As soon as we make it back to our vehicle, unhindered, I’ll email you a picture of what you’re looking for. Deal?”

“Shouldn’t I be agreeing to that with the new leader of Torchwood?” Kathy asked sarcastically. 

“What d’ya say Ianto?”

“That’s Mr Jones to you … either that or sir …” Ianto mumbled. “But, yeah, whatever… sounds cool to me. Just get me out of here.”

“Whatever you want.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With his arms flung over the shoulders of Owen to his right and Jack to his left, their arms circling his waist and propelling him forward, Ianto breathed heavily through the face mask as they made their way back to the SUV. True to her word, Kathy Swanson had assigned two uniformed police officers to ensure that no one got in their way.

As soon as they crossed the barrier and the SUV was in sight, Ianto actually allowed himself to believe he wasn’t dreaming.

Owen got in the back seat with Ianto, so he could take a better look at any injuries with the scanner he’d not wanted to reveal inside the police station. He didn’t think the nose looked broken, it was swollen, but not especially crooked. However, there was a lot of blood on Ianto’s sleeves and shirt from where it had bled freely. There were already the beginnings of dark bruising under his eyes and over the bridge of the nose. He decided to wait a while before manipulating it to see if there were any telltale grating sounds. Owen didn’t want to test Jack’s temper by causing Ianto to yell out in pain.

“He’ll be OK, Jack. I’ll send Swanson some close-ups of our new species and give her instructions. Hey, Ianto, when you’re feeling better, you can come up with a new name for it.”

“Hasn’t it got one?”

“The honour of naming it is all yours.”

“Let me see.”

Owen swivelled the screen so that Ianto had a good view of the purplish-blue plant.

“Hmmm… how about the purple people eater …”

“It’s not a bloody Triffid – I told you before.”

“I’ll think about it … purple haze maybe … anyway I’m the boss, I’ll call it what I want. And while we’re on the subject I want some of those good painkillers, not the paracetamol – my head’s killing me.”

“Right you are.” Owen wasn’t surprised that Ianto was demanding painkillers, he looked like hell. 

“Oh yeah, and call Tosh – she’s worried,” mumbled Ianto.

“How do you know?” asked Owen.

“Caps lock all over my eyeballs.”

“Are you sure he’s OK?” demanded Jack, getting into the back of the SUV on the other side of Ianto. 

Jack had been explaining to the policemen loyal to Kathy how to use the face masks he’d left with them. She was right, there were good coppers who didn’t deserve to suffer because of the few bad seeds. Without realising he’d done it, Jack had wrapped an arm protectively around Ianto and pulled him back against his chest to hold him securely.

“You seeing things, Ianto?”

“Lenses.” Ianto pointed in the direction of his eyes. “Tosh won’t stop typing until one of you calls to tell her what’s going on.”

“Jack – do as he says, call Tosh. Remember he’s the boss now. Ask her if she’s heard from Gwen. I’ll get those lenses out for you, Ianto. I think you’ve had enough of getting text messages drip fed into your head for the past twenty-four hours.”

“Hey, I stopped once he went to sleep last night.” Jack defended himself quickly. 

“You expect me to believe that?” Owen snorted.

“Owen – just get these things out of my eyes. I can’t - my hands are dirty.” Ianto muttered as he held up his blood-stained hands for both men to see. Owen handed a packet of moistened wipes to Ianto and then leaned over him to carefully extract the special lenses.

“Don’t stare at me like that, Harkness. You’re making me nervous. Get up front and get us out of here.”

Jack was reluctant to lose contact with Ianto, but after pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, he carefully settled him carefully back into the seat.

“Orders, boss?” asked Jack cheekily.

“Take me home, please.” 

“You’ve got it.” Jack smiled. “Owen – does he need to go back to the Hub or can you treat him back at his place?”

“Just superficial bruising and cuts I think, nothing broken or he’d’ve been screaming all the way back to the SUV. Should be fine.”

“I don’t scream.” Ianto sounded indignant even as he slurred his words slightly as the painkillers began to take effect.

“Oh yes you do.” Jack grinned broadly, happy to have Ianto back where he belonged. “Especially when I- ”

“Too much information, Jack. Just drive.” Owen put his hands over his ears, genuinely not wanting to hear what Jack said next. The fact that it was sufficient to make Ianto’s cheeks glow pink was more than enough for him.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to resituate everyone. More to follow soon.  
> Been a very, very busy term. Nearing the summer break now, so will be returning to this soon.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank god for that, Tosh! I’m not sure what I’d have done to that pair if they’d come back without Ianto… yeah, I passed on Owen’s advice… after that homeless guy died they’ve taken this whole business a lot more seriously. I think I’d better come back to the Hub, chances are we’re going to be short staffed for a few hours at least … yeah, you’re right, he owes Ianto some downtime.” Gwen cupped her ear to cut out the sound of ambulance sirens, so that she could hear what Tosh was saying. “Oh my God, Tosh! I don’t believe you just said that! I’ll see you soon, bye for now.”

Gwen struggled to suppress the urge to laugh out loud. She’d seen more than enough, just from walking into Jack’s office without knocking, to provide the images to accompany her colleague’s suggestion. Tucking her phone back into the pocket of her leather jacket, Gwen grinned as she stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital. She hadn’t realised just how worried she’d been about Ianto until Tosh had called to let her know that Jack had managed to get him released. She’d been outraged that Ianto had been charged with wounding with intent to kill, she’d been there with him at the time and knew damn well that he’d given fair warning and shot to incapacitate and nothing more. As for Jack taking him in to be locked up when it was all his damn fault in the first place – well, if she was Ianto, she’d be demanding some major compensation. An all expenses paid holiday came to mind, that’s what she’d be asking for, at the very least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh smiled to herself, quietly proud at having shocked Gwen. Even though the alien plants were wreaking more havoc than before, she felt a surge of cautious optimism. She’d not slept well the previous night, tossing and turning in her sleep, anxious for Ianto, worried about how Jack was reacting. But now there seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel, even if Owen would probably suggest it was an oncoming train. Jack had got to Ianto before he’d been throttled or hurt too badly, and they now knew exactly what the plant looked like. 

Earlier that day, after Owen had unhappily informed her that he and Jack were to be incommunicado when they went inside the police station, she’d had a sense of foreboding, one which she dearly wished hadn’t been proved right. Having to watch on helplessly as those two thugs came back into Ianto’s cell and proceeded to lay into him viciously, eventually coming close to strangling him with his own tie – that had been too much for her. She’d frantically captured as many images of the two men as she could, intent on hunting them down and killing them personally if they caused any permanent harm to her friend. Her mind had been going into overdrive, coming up with ideas for inflicting painful, slow deaths on the two men. Fortunately for the men in question, Jack had arrived in the nick of time, just like she’d promised Ianto he would. 

She’d still not felt entirely at ease until Owen and Jack had got Ianto settled down in the back of the SUV. There was much yet to do, but at least the team was whole once more. However, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment when Owen had removed the special lenses from Ianto’s eyes. She’d been secretly hoping that Ianto would forget he was wearing them and that she’d be able to observe first hand just how glad Jack would be to have him back. Ah well, she’d caught enough on the Hub’s security cameras in the past to be able to fuel her imagination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although Ianto was in his bedroom, he wasn’t exactly being pampered by Jack. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, being lectured by Owen, whilst Jack sheepishly hovered around by the door, as if looking for an excuse to slip out for a few minutes.

“Right then, I’ll go through it all once more – for both of you. Avoid hot drinks and strenuous activity, and because you’re going to ignore that advice, you’d best wear an old t-shirt and keep a box of tissues close by. The painkillers-”

“Please, Owen,” pleaded Ianto, rolling his eyes in despair. “Believe it or not, all I want right now is a shower and a few hours uninterrupted sleep, in a bed with a mattress and sheets.” 

“Really – with him around?” asked Owen incredulously. 

“Yes. Maybe something to eat first,” stated Ianto pragmatically. “I don’t think I’ve had anything since breakfast yesterday.”

“Bollocks. Harkness – make sure he eats something! Those painkillers aren’t meant to be taken on an empty stomach. You may be the boss, Ianto, but you’re still a stupid twat – you should’ve said something-”

“Except if I had you would’ve just given me paracetamol, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Instead I got you to give me drugs that actually work. So how does that make me stupid?”

“OK, I stand corrected – you’re a clever fucking twat, sir.” The sarcasm dripped from every word as Owen scowled at Ianto, who had decided to lie back on his bed and hold his arm up over his eyes, attempting to block out the light. “Meanwhile, you need to take it easy. Make sure he does all the hard work.”

“I always do,” asserted Jack, winking lewdly.

“No, you don’t -” protested Ianto.

“I’m not talking about clearing up mess and making coffee, I’m talking about-”

“So am I.” Ianto raised his arm away from his eyes to glare meaningfully at Jack.

Owen looked from one man to the other and quashed the urge to tell them they were acting more and more like an old married couple each day. Instead he gathered up his scanners and diagnostic equipment into his bag and turned towards the door, as if to leave.

“Like I said – if you two decide to ignore my medical advice, that’s your look out. But you’d better trust me, if there’s no sign of Ianto back at the Hub before the end of the day, Tosh and Gwen will be knocking the door down to make sure he’s alright, because they won’t take my word for it. Got it?”

“Yes, Owen – and trust me, if they do turn up on my doorstep this afternoon, you will regret it.” Ianto turned his glare on the doctor.

“You still taking this leadership thing seriously?” Owen frowned.

“Aren’t you? I do control the budget and salary payments. I could have HMRC onto you before the end of the week.”

“Bloody hell, you make a fucking scary boss, Jones. I think I prefer Captain Mood-swing.”

Before either Jack or Ianto could defend themselves, Owen was on the stairs and heading for the front door. Shortly after the front door was slammed shut they heard the distinctive sound of the Range Rover’s engine being revved up. 

“He’s taken the SUV.” Jack sounded pissed off as he leaned out of the window to see his transport disappear down the street.

“That’s OK, we’ll get him to come back and pick us up later.” Ianto’s tone was nonchalant. Whether that was down to the drugs or because he was revelling in the idea of being in charge was debatable.

“You’d get Owen to act as your chauffeur?” Jack raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“Why not? Jealous?”

“Maybe.” Jack pouted slightly.

“Don’t be. I was thinking of you more for the position of personal assistant,” Ianto reached out and slapped Jack’s backside. “But first of all, I could really do with a shower.”

“Want some help with that?”

“I was hoping for a quick shower. I don’t suppose you could see if there’s anything edible in the kitchen? I’m starving.”

“For you, sir, anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is he alright?” Tosh demanded as soon as Owen came through the cog wheel door.

“He’ll be fine. Jack’s looking after him back at his place.”

“He’d better be or I’ll have more than words with Jack Harkness when I see him.” Gwen piped up from the sofa, where she’d been lying in wait for someone to return. 

“Ah Gwen – glad you’re back. Did you manage to download the files from the computer network like I asked?”

“Yes, Owen, I’m not stupid. Tosh has already opened the patient database – the names and prognoses of all those affected by the pollen are there.”

“Great. Now we can start to develop profiles of those most likely to suffer ill-effects from the pollen and develop a better emergency treatment strategy. Good work, Gwen.”

“So, where’s this plant you found?” Tosh asked eagerly. She’d seen the images that Owen had sent to her and was keen to see the actual plant itself.

Owen gave one of his supercilious looks as he lifted the sample box from the floor and placed it on the nearest work surface. Taking his time, he slowly opened the lid, reached in and produced a small plastic bag containing the wilted purple plant. 

“All we’ve got to do is analyse it – figure out which aspects of its biochemistry it shares with regular plants and then decide on an appropriate herbicide. Its days are numbered.”

“It doesn’t look deadly.” Gwen shrugged. “It looks quite pretty-”

“You’ve got no taste, Cooper. Even I could have come up with a more tasteful choice for wedding flowers that you managed.” 

Leaving Gwen muttering about her mother insisting that the tropical bouquet was on trend, Owen sauntered off towards the autopsy bay, Tosh following in his wake.

“So, what should I do now while we wait for Jack to come back in?” Gwen called out, looking lost as to what to do next. The analyses of the plant and epidemiology studies were really Owen’s and Tosh’s areas of expertise, not hers.

“You know what, Gwen?” Owen turned slowly, taking in Gwen’s belligerent pose, feet apart, hands on hips. He knew that if she was at a loose end she’d only distract him and Tosh from their work. “I think the boss would tell you to take the afternoon off. Spend some time with your husband.”

“I don’t think Jack would say that.” Gwen frowned, wondering what on earth Owen was on about.

“Who said anything about Jack? I was talking about our new boss. Ianto.”

“What!?”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto reconnecting … literally.  
>  Here's a 'comfort' chapter to justify the h/c tag.  
>  Quite explicit 'comforting'...
> 
> Plot continues in Chapter 34
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto?” Jack called out for the third time.

His brow was furrowed, wondering if he was being ignored deliberately or whether he should go see if Ianto was alright. He’d heard the water from the shower being turned off ten minutes ago, followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. In his hand he held the plate of sandwiches he’d made for Ianto and he wasn’t sure if he should take them up to the bedroom or whether Ianto would prefer to eat downstairs. Once too often had he made the dire mistake of getting crumbs in Ianto’s bed, a crime more heinous than leaving dirty coffee cups in the sink if memory served him right. Jack put the plate back down on the kitchen table and covered the sandwiches with cling film before bounding up the stairs.

He smiled as he took in the sight of Ianto sprawled half naked across his bed, a bath towel coming adrift from his hips as he lay on his front, his face buried in a pile of pillows. The sound of gentle snoring filled the quietness of the room. Jack whispered his name once more just to make sure he wasn’t awake and then quietly walked into the bedroom. Owen had told him that the painkillers he’d given Ianto might make him drowsy, especially on an empty stomach.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed and slowly ran a fingertip down his lover’s spine, taking note of each fresh bruise or red mark as his eyes followed the progress of his finger. He was tempted to push the towel away from his hips but thought better of it. Glancing back at Ianto’s face, yet again making sure he’d not woken him, Jack frowned as he saw the chafed skin about his throat from where the tie had been tightened. Jack knew in his bones that if he’d arrived on the scene a few minutes later, the two men responsible for this would be lying in a morgue with broken necks. 

“What’s the matter?” mumbled Ianto, blinking at Jack.

“You’re exhausted. You should get some sleep.”

“Join me?”

“Is that an order, Mr Jones?”

“Oh yes – and get your kit off first – don’t want that buckle sticking into me.” Ianto pointed at the large metal buckle on Jack’s belt.

“I could just take the belt off.”

“Everything off or I won’t let you in the bed.”

“So you’re not handing command back to me any time soon?”

“No one to witness it, so it wouldn’t count, and don’t even think of inviting Owen over.

Jack grinned as he quickly shed his clothes. After a couple of centuries practice he had long since mastered the art of getting undressed before a potential bed companion had the chance to question the wisdom of having sex with Jack, and by the time he was standing there, proudly naked, any misgivings were thrown out of the window. 

“You’ll have to sit up, so I can pull the duvet over us.” Jack tugged the damp towel away from Ianto’s hips leaving him naked on the top of the bedcovers.

“Don’t steal it all.” 

Ianto crawled under the duvet, the cool air making him shiver slightly. 

“As if I’d dare!”

“You always do.”

Sliding into the bed behind Ianto, Jack slid one arm under his body to circle his waist, pulling him back, so that Ianto’s buttocks were pressed against his groin. Wriggling until he felt comfortable, Jack then used his free hand to trace light patterns down Ianto’s arm, chest, hip and thigh, spirals and circles, like those used to calm skittish horses. His hand sunk lower each time, his fingertips barely making contact with the soft skin in the dip that led down to the dark nest of curls in which Ianto’s cock lay, responding to Jack’s teasing. 

Ianto squirmed in Jack’s arms, torn between wanting to sleep and needing to be made love to by Jack. The former would rest his body; the latter would give him solace from the depth of his soul to his tips of his toes. There was no contest.

Turning around in Jack’s loose hold, Ianto rolled over onto his back, pulling Jack over on top of him. With no preamble they began to kiss, lazily at first, nibbling at each other’s lips, the tips of their tongues just touching, then as if warming up, their mouths opened up, inviting each other to delve deeper, stealing breath, sealing desires.

Meanwhile they explored each other’s bodies with their hands, caressing, fondling, squeezing, holding, grasping. Their breaths became faster as their heart rates also increased, breaths coming out in short gasps of shared air as their lips barely lost contact. Temperatures rising, their chests became sweatier, causing them to almost stick to one another under the insulating weight of the duvet. 

A knee pressed with determination between his thighs parted Ianto’s legs to allow Jack’s body to seek its goal. Sliding his hands under Ianto’s arse, Jack pulled him up, pressing harder to push against him, their cocks rubbing against one another, trapped between the two men’s bodies that sought to become one. 

“Ianto?”

A quick nod in response was all the answer he needed.

An outstretched arm reached out for the nightstand drawer and what lay within. Jack didn’t even need to bother looking as he grabbed hold of one of the many lube dispensers and pumped some into his hand, which he then carefully tucked back under the covers to prepare Ianto.

“Be thankful I’m not using cold butter on you,” whispered Jack after a few minutes.

“You… liked it …” moaned Ianto as Jack began to work two fingers in and out, tantalisingly slowly.

“I liked you playing rough… punishing me.”

“Typical…” 

Ianto bit down on his lip as Jack curled his fingers slightly, brushing his large knuckles gently across that bundle of nerve endings that seemed designed to short circuit any conscious thoughts.

Jack grinned, the simultaneous gasp and eyeroll confirming that he’d got just the right spot. Gently placing a pillow under Ianto’s buttocks, Jack felt his lover’s legs part involuntarily, his body beckoning him in. Slicking himself up quickly with another squirt of lube, Jack very gradually pushed his way inside Ianto’s more than willing body. Aside from a little initial resistance, he was sure he could have slammed in with one sharp lunge of his hips, but he wanted slow, inch by inch, letting his lover’s body consume him as he felt the warmth encompass him and the tightness clasp hold of him. They were both breathing more erratically, alternating gasps and sighs, as Jack started to thrust in and out, putting his many years experience as a lover to full use as he made sure to give as much pleasure as he took. 

Feeling Ianto trying to squeeze a hand in between their sweaty bodies, Jack quickly gathered it up to hold both hands above Ianto’s head, taking total control. He wanted to bring Ianto to orgasm without either of them touching his cock. Nipping Ianto’s lower lip with his teeth, Jack held his position, deep inside his lover, not moving, just feeling the tension flowing through the other’s man’s body as it urgently sought release. As Ianto began to push upwards off the mattress, almost begging for him to move, Jack took mercy on him and started to pump in and out, harder and faster in response to Ianto’s demands. Eventually, as his thrusts became wilder and less coordinated, Jack achieved his goal as he watched Ianto screw up his face in what could have been either agony or ecstasy. With a loud scream, Ianto came hard, his internal muscles clenching around Jack; tipping him over the edge to his own noisy climax. 

Still joined, Jack leant down over his spent lover, sweat dripping from his brow onto Ianto’s forehead, panting heavily. He noted a small trickle of blood under Ianto’s nose and grabbed a tissue to stem the bleeding.

“Owen’s gonna kill me. You OK?”

Ianto was breathing too heavily to be able to speak, so he just nodded. But if Jack had any doubts, the look of unguarded love shining in Ianto’s eyes convinced him that all was well.

Jack ruffled Ianto’s hair affectionately, his breathing slowing back to normal.

“See, I was right," muttered Jack smugly. "You do scream.”


	34. Chapter 34

Kathy Swanson watched on from the safety of her office as several bulky figures in Hazmat suits swarmed over the staff multi storey car park. The CBRN specialists had initially protested that looking for plants wasn’t their line of work, but in the end they had decided that given a choice of searching for small, toxic, mutant plants or devices containing biological, nuclear or chemical agents, they were happy to kill weeds for a change. The deal breaker had been the location – Cardiff. There had been that many incidents in the city over the past several decades that it was taken as read that if something odd turned up in South Wales that required their assistance, then the department dealt with the suspected threat first and asked questions later. More often than not either UNIT or Torchwood stepped forward at that point and took over the investigation. It had been a sharp-eyed policeman that had spotted the strange purple foliage first, just before he’d succumbed to a coughing fit and had been carted off to hospital. Kathy thought she’d heard that it was PC Davidson, but it couldn’t have been, he wasn’t on the duty roster.

A remote grasper had been used to collect some whole specimens for analysis, one of which was destined for Torchwood in accordance with the standing arrangement that any toxic or harmful substance, of unknown origin found in Cardiff, be submitted to the organisation for further analysis. The planters in which the plants had been growing had been encased in plastic sheeting and removed with heavy lifting gear, destined for decontamination. Vehicles parked across the road in the parking bays were also wrapped in heavy duty tarpaulins in preparation for transfer to a special decontamination car wash facility. Decon showers were set up in the locker rooms for any personnel still on site.

Flipping open her mobile phone, Kathy selected a number from her contacts list. It went through to voicemail, which surprised her, but she left a message anyway.

“The plants have all been located and neutralised. I’ve been informed that a sealed specimen is being dispatched by courier to your base. You’re a pain in the arse, Jack, but thanks for helping us out. I’ll do my best to spread the word that you assisted us in finding the cause of the problem and dealing with it. I’ll make it clear that Torchwood was not responsible. Give my regards to your boss, he’ll be hearing from me soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Message?” 

Ianto yawned as he stretched his arms out above his head. He could have happily curled up in bed and stayed there the rest of the day – even if Jack hadn’t been sprawled out alongside him. However, he knew that their work was far from done for the day and that he’d have to make an appearance back at the Hub sooner rather than later to avoid a home invasion by Gwen or Tosh, or heaven help him, both of them.

Jack was standing in the doorway, naked except for his wrist strap, holding his phone in his hand.

“Yeah – Kathy.” Jack smiled to himself.

“If you cheat on me with her, I’ll demote you. I’ll have you know that I won’t have my personal assistant acting like a slut.”

Ianto tutted loudly as Jack feigned mock outrage at the suggestion.

“Who, me? Of course not, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it – well actually that’s not true, I can’t control my dreams and just in case-”

“Jack. Stop there. That hole is quite big enough already, you can stop digging.”

“Oops?”

“Didn’t I ask you to get me something to eat a few hours ago?”

“Yes sir, that was before you ordered me to join you in your bed…sir.”

“Yeah – well I’m even hungrier now – I don’t suppose you found anything to eat did you?”

“If you must know, I did. I made you a sandwich – it’s on the kitchen table. Shall I bring it upstairs for you?”

“What’s in it?” Ianto frowned, wondering what on earth Jack could have found to put in a sandwich and whether or not it would still be OK to eat. The last thing he wanted was food poisoning.

“Cheese,” stated Jack proudly. However, the grin on his face slipped as he saw the horrified look on Ianto’s face. “Ianto? Are you OK? Ianto?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hang on – this is weird.” Tosh called out from her computer.

“What’ve you got?” called out Owen, reluctant to abandon the analyses he had running of both the plant he’d collected from the drain in the garage and the one sent to them by courier.

“More reports of people collapsing. Non-allergy sufferers – all taken ill at more or less the same time. Symptoms include difficulty breathing and wheezing. Several going on to experience full anaphylactic shock.”

“Shit – sounds like another cluster of those bloody plants. Bad news – but not what I’d call weird. What’s different this time?”

“None of the victims are in Cardiff.”

“What?!”

“Four in Bristol, two in Bath, six in Portsmouth, one in Salisbury and three in Warminster – apart from the fact that they’re all towns in south-west England, there’s no pattern-”

“Oh yes there is.”

“Ianto!” Tosh rushed up from her seat and dashed over to greet Ianto with a gentle hug. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine – really.”

Owen walked towards them and pointed at Jack.

“I hope he looked after you properly.” 

“Oh yes – made me a sandwich and tucked me up in bed,” Ianto winked at Owen. “Couldn’t have been more attentive to my needs.”

“I really hope ‘sandwich’ isn’t some euphemism for one of your kinky games.” Owen had caught the way Jack was leaning back on the nearest desk with a smug look on his face. 

“Nope – it was cheese on wholemeal bread.”

Ianto hadn’t believed that Jack had actually made him a cheese sandwich. But it was a million times tastier than the one he’d refused to eat the previous day. The bread was fresher, the sharp-tasting cheddar finely grated and it had been wrapped to stop it from drying out. It had tasted all the better for the fact that Jack had made it for him; the number of times the other man had prepared him something to eat, rather than calling for takeout could be counted on the fingers of one hand. 

“What did you mean just then? You said there was a pattern?” Tosh asked suddenly.

“Well yes – it’s obvious really,” Ianto shrugged as he remembered what he’d been referring to.

“Fancy enlightening us mere minions?” Owen waved his arms to encompass himself, Tosh and Jack.

“They’re all on the Great Western train line from Cardiff to Portsmouth.” 

Ianto shook his head, he couldn’t believe they’d not made the connection. Perhaps it was because he’d never had a car of his own until Jack had bought him the Audi and was more familiar with the destinations of trains from the various stations in Cardiff. He’d also handed out plenty of timetables from the tourist office as well. Sometimes it seemed as if the whole world gathered on Mermaid Quay for some unfathomable reason.

“So, are you suggesting our alien plants decided to get on a train?” Owen asked sarcastically. “Triffids – letting the train take the strain?”

“Without a ticket?” Ianto shook his head vehemently. “I doubt it. No. I’d suggest there must be some of those plants at the train station. Perhaps on the platform awnings?” 

“Of course – that would explain everything.” Tosh began typing quickly, accessing the station’s website to search for the exact platform from which the Portsmouth train departed. “Platform 2 and there’s at least one train every hour, which means-”

“We need to send warnings to the health trusts responsible for each of those towns and cities, make sure they’re ready to act.” Owen grabbed his phone and dialled the number of his contact at the Department of Health. “Nice call, boss. Well done.”

Jack was about to say he hadn’t said anything and then realised that Owen’s uncharacteristic compliment was directed at Ianto and not himself. He shook his head ruefully only to find Tosh smiling at him.

“Jack? Did you really transfer power to Ianto?”

“Owen told you.” Jack sighed; he should have known that Owen would have delighted in being the one to break the news.

“Yes – he explained why. So, just who is in charge – you or Ianto?”

“Me.” Both men said simultaneously. Jack scowled at Ianto who tilted his head to one side, silently challenging Jack.

“Trouble is that now he’s got a taste of power, he won’t give it up.” Jack pouted petulantly, it was one thing for Ianto to take control in the bedroom, but this wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

“Hey – how do I know that if I give up the position of leader I won’t get locked up again?”

“He’s got a point, Jack.” Owen sauntered back to stand between the two men. 

“Did you get through to them?” asked Ianto.

“Yeah – also got in touch with HPA. They’re issuing bulletins warning hospitals about sudden influx of patients needing immediate treatment. Paramedics are being equipped with extra epi-pens to deal with cases quickly. However, someone should get onto the railway police and get that platform closed for now – divert trains to different platforms until the plants are found and destroyed.”

“Sounds like a job for Gwen.” Jack looked around, surprised he’d not noticed she was missing earlier. “Where is she?”

“At home,” Owen muttered. “Shagging Rhys I should think.” 

“What?”

“I told her it’s what the boss would’ve wanted her to do,” replied Owen with a sly grin, catching Ianto’s eye.

“Excuse me?” demanded Ianto, flabbergasted. Was that really the sort of thing Owen thought he’d suggest as leader of Torchwood?

“Don’t deny it - I used to hear you mumbling sentiments along those lines to yourself all the time. Now how did it used to go? Oh yeah - ‘why doesn’t she just piss off home and fuck her own bloody boyfriend?’… sound familiar?”

“Context, Owen! That was ages ago and I had my reasons,” spluttered Ianto, embarrassed by how jealous he’d once been. 

Ianto didn’t think anyone had heard him back then in the days when Gwen didn’t seem to know when to call it a night, when she’d just sit around in Jack’s office for hours, thinking everyone else had left for the night. Except he hadn’t, he was there waiting for Jack. He’d thought Owen had left by then as well – obviously he hadn’t and must have overheard Ianto venting to himself one evening. 

“Ianto? Something you want to tell me about?”

“Nothing to bother yourself with, Jack.” Ianto rolled his eyes; he knew that tone in Jack’s voice. “It’s just Owen shit stirring, for a change.”

Not waiting to hear any more, Ianto made his way over to his own desk and opened a detailed street map of Cardiff. Something was bothering him.

“Owen – tell me more, later,” muttered Jack. He’d not missed the tightly pressed lips of Ianto Jones, the giveaway tell that confirmed there was definitely more to this than met the eye. 

“Oh fuck. We’ve got another problem.” 

Ianto’s exclamation rapidly got everyone’s attention.


	35. Chapter 35

“What is it?” Jack demanded, automatically assuming the role of leader. Beyond the bruising that still surrounded Ianto’s eyes he could detect a sense of alarm. The light-hearted banter and gentle ribbing were abandoned as he recognised the serious expression on Ianto’s face.

Ianto had the map spread out in front of him and had drawn several circles on it with a highlighter pen.

“I take it that we agreed that the plants at the police station got there the same way as the one Owen found in the garage – seeds, or whatever, stuck on the outside of vehicles parked on Albany Road?”

“Yeah – that’s the only thing that could explain the distance they’d travelled.” Jack rested a hand on Ianto’s back and leaned over to try to work out what he was looking at.

“But if there are plants on the platform at the central train station, they couldn’t have got there by human intervention surely – they must’ve got there by wind.” Ianto pointed at the central train station on his map. “Tosh, didn’t you suggest that the seeds or spores were likely to be dispersed by the wind?”

Tosh shrugged as she moved to stand on the other side of Ianto to get a better view of what he was studying on the street map.

“That seems logical for a plant that produces pollen with air sacs – oh, I see what you’re getting at. Hang on, I’ll check that data I was looking up yesterday.”

Tosh dashed across to her computer and quickly pulled up a file she had set aside when the emergency at the police station had taken priority. 

“Let me guess – the prevailing weather conditions one week ago would have included fairly strong north-westerly winds, blowing out towards the Bristol Channel, yes?”   
Ianto asked, even though he already knew the answer. He felt Jack’s hand squeezing his shoulder tightly and was reassured by the unspoken encouragement.

“Yes, you’re right… and if I superimpose the wind charts for twelve hours either side of the time when the SUV was parked on Albany Road on top of a map of Cardiff –” Tosh expertly manipulated the displays on her computer to represent graphically what Ianto had described. A looped sequence of broad white arrows moved steadily from the top right-hand corner to the bottom left hand corner of the screen. “Got it – and Albany Road is almost directly to the north-west of the train station.”

“Hang on – that means-” blurted Jack, clutching hold of both of Ianto’s shoulders as he suddenly caught onto what had caused him to call out for their attention.

“Directly in between the site of the first incidents, involving people who’d been on Albany Road, and the central train station, here,” Ianto indicated the locations he’d already circled on his own map. “We’ve got St David’s shopping centre, the Capitol Building and the Castle.” 

Tosh shook her head slightly as she muttered under her breath.

“It’s worse than that – once we factor in lateral drift and dispersion by warm air currents from those buildings, it’s not so much a narrow corridor, but more of a cone shaped zone of dispersal.” 

Tosh’s fingers flew as she dragged out a shape not dissimilar to a witch’s hat from Albany Road across the city centre. 

“Oh, that’s not good.” Jack shook his head as he looked from Tosh’s 3-D display to Ianto’s paper map. Both told the same story. “The Millennium Stadium is in the danger zone as well.”

“Wales v England at the weekend. It’ll be packed, it always is.” Ianto ran his hand through his hair. It was one thing evacuating a train station for a few hours, but calling off an international rugby match was another matter entirely. 

“All places likely to be crawling with people outdoors. This just gets better and better.” Owen was angry with himself. He should have known better than to think they’d got the situation under control. “We need to act fast, arrange evacuation procedures, and get any pedestrians off the streets and indoors. No way can the emergency services cope with the potential number of victims, without someone dying.”

“OK – first off, I need to speak to Kathy,” stated Jack. “She’s seen first-hand what these plants can do, she’ll be on our side. I’ll talk to her - those locations that Ianto listed all need to be cleared and then searched for plants. Owen, any update on how we can kill them quickly?”

“I’ve not finished the full analysis of them yet, but my suggestion would be paraquat. If our purple alien plant uses light energy, which we’re assuming it does, then paraquat will act on contact and destroy the whole plant by generating reactive oxygen species – don’t ask, it’s all to do with electron carriers. It’s the best thing going for wiping out weeds quickly. There’s just one problem.”

“What?” demanded Jack. 

“It’s been banned by the EU since 2007.” Owen shrugged apologetically. “It’s lethal to humans by ingestion. Ninety percent of fatalities were self-administered deliberately. There’s no way of getting hold of any.”

“Damn-” 

Ianto coughed and looked uncomfortable as he became the centre of attention.

“Um – we’ve got some here. It’s in the chemical store.”

Owen gave Ianto the type of glare that said, in no uncertain terms, ‘we’re talking about this later’ and then shook his head in resignation. He’d make sure that if there was any left after dealing with the alien plant that he’d supervise its storage.

“How much have you got stashed away?”

“Enough. It can be diluted for use.”

Jack had noted the silent exchange between his medic and his lover. If the chemical had been banned in 2007 and Ianto had managed to get hold of some… the dates made sense, the Battle of Canary Wharf had been in July of that year. Without knowing there was a queue, he made his mind up that he’d be having words with Ianto later concerning the stockpiling of chemicals used to commit suicide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack made the call to Kathy Swanson who was more than willing to arrange the evacuations of the sites identified as potential risk areas. She’d seen the chaos that had ensued at the police station and would rather avert that if at all possible. It wasn’t difficult for her to persuade her superiors to authorise the operation under the guise of further gas leaks in the city. They had even put in the call to British Gas to send in vans to lend credibility to the cover story. Fire appliances were to be placed on standby, equipped with supplies of paraquat and protective clothing, they would be best equipped to gain access to the plants in order to destroy them if there were more than Torchwood could cope with.

With Kathy’s assistance, local radio stations, including Red Dragon, broadcast alerts warning people to avoid the city centre for the rest of the day. Hotels and bars were prompted to instigate happy hours in a further attempt to keep as many people off the streets as possible. Jack was impressed at her creativity and imagination and idly wondered what it would take to recruit her to Torchwood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whilst Jack was busy liaising with the police, Owen had been in touch with the hospitals, who’d passed on his warnings to general practices and walk-in clinics in the city to be prepared. That left him to prepare emergency kits for each team member as well as the face masks which had proved invaluable earlier that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tosh set to work on calibrating scanners to detect the signature antigens of the alien plant if it was present in the air. A quick check of the latest results on Owen’s analysis gave her cause to frown, but she factored in the differences to ensure that the scanners picked up all variants of the alien pollen. There were sufficient variations in the biochemical make up to require additional data to be input into the hand-held devices, but she put it down to natural genetic diversity. However, she made a note of her observations and figured that she’d have to time to check them out later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ianto made it his priority to seek out appropriate kit to help them deal with the plants. He found two slim canisters that could be pressurised and used to spray liquids accurately from a distance of several metres and set them to one side, ready for Owen to fill with the herbicide. To begin with he was ready to dismiss the armoury, thinking that weapons would be of little use to them in this instance, their adversary was incapable of running away from them or shooting at them, indeed it was the most insentient foe they’d dealt with for a long time, even if it could strike at them without them being aware of its presence. On second thoughts, Ianto decided that it wouldn’t hurt to take a few flame throwers as a precautionary measure. If necessary, they could just torch a whole bunch of the plants without getting too close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relieved that they would be getting back-up from the police in keeping civilians out of the way, Jack turned to the task of working out who should check which sites. It was then that Gwen came storming into the Hub, with Rhys in tow, alarmed at the news breaking of evacuations across the city.

“My god, Jack! What the bloody hell’s going on out there?”

“Where the hell have you been?” countered Jack immediately.

Ianto smiled sardonically at the sight of them, wondering if they knew just how alike they were. It occurred to him that they didn’t even realise that their poses were a mirror image, each with hands on hips, feet apart, ready to snap.

“Nice of you to join us, Gwen. Good to see you, Rhys.” Ianto strolled over and held out his hand to Gwen’s husband, giving it a firm shake.

“Oh, Ianto, pet – your face!” Gwen exclaimed, seeing for the first time the swelling and bruising across his nose and around his eyes. She subconsciously raised her hand to her own face in sympathy. 

Owen nudged Tosh who looked at him and winked. Neither of them had made a fuss over the state Ianto was in, both of them just pleased he was back with them. They were also sensitive enough to know that it would only serve to make Jack feel even worse than he already was about Ianto having been attacked in his cell.

“Nothing broken. I’m already feeling much better.” He walked over to take his place next to Jack and reached out to put a hand on his arm, having noticed the anguished look in his face when Gwen had remarked on the state of his face. “Where have you been then?”

“Visiting Andy Davidson in hospital. He was mildly affected by the pollen. They discharged him and so we gave him a lift home.” 

“Is he alright now?” asked Ianto. He was grateful to Andy Davidson for his support and hoped he was recovering. 

“Yes, thanks.” Gwen gave Ianto a confused look, not sure if Owen had been winding her up about him now being her boss. 

She found it odd that Jack was just standing there, grim faced, not saying a word. They’d have normally ended up yelling at each other before reaching an uneasy truce, especially when she had Rhys with her.

“Good, glad to hear it,” replied Ianto, ignoring the fact that Gwen didn’t appear to know who was in charge. “Now, as you can see, we’ve got a bit of a crisis to deal with. Jack – do you want to explain?”

In a few words, Ianto had defused the situation and handed over control to Jack, seamlessly and without loss of face for anyone concerned. Jack didn’t have a clue how he did it, but he was inordinately grateful that he could. He was also just a little in awe of the man who’d stand by his side through thick and thin.

“We’ve good reason to believe there are alien plants shedding pollen at the train station, hence the cancellation of all services via Cardiff Central.”

“Bloody hell,” Rhys stated succinctly. As someone who worked in transport, he was only too aware of the chaos that would entail.

“Yeah – luckily the police are on our side this time and are assisting with the evacuations.”

“What – after all the crap we’ve been through?” Gwen could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“This is more important than any petty disputes and thankfully the police agree with us. The problem we now face is that there could well be more plants growing anywhere between Albany Road and the train station, possibly as far out as the Millennium Stadium.”

“So what are you doing about it?” Gwen demanded, getting back into her stride of questioning Jack mercilessly.

“Searching the major sites – rooftops, exposed areas where there might be enough soil for these things to grow. Owen reckons they can be killed with herbicides, so we’ve got some ready to take with us.”

“Right then, well who’s going where then?” 

“I’ll go to the Castle,” Ianto volunteered. “I’ve read those bloody brochures so many times, I know the place better than most of the tour guides.”

“We’ll take the Millennium Stadium then-” Gwen turned to look at Rhys.

“What do you mean ‘we’? This is no job for a civilian, Gwen,” growled Jack, angry that he seemed to be losing control once more. 

“Jack – you might want to reconsider that,” suggested Ianto, speaking calmly. “If I’m right, I bet Rhys here would spot something out of the ordinary at the home of Welsh rugby faster than any of the rest of us – except me, but I’ll be at the Castle. What do you say, Rhys?”

“Damn right I would, man. There’s a game on this weekend and Banana’s got us tickets – I’ve got added incentive.”

Jack glared at Ianto briefly before shaking his head slowly.

“Alright then – this once. But no cock-ups like when we took you to the warehouse to deal with the space whale, OK? This time you do as you’re told.”

“Yes, Jack. Bloody hell, I’m not that stupid! For f-”

Before Rhys could complete his sentence, Ianto stepped forward and took his arm.

“Tosh – can you equip Gwen and Rhys with scanners, masks and paraquat while Jack finishes giving orders?” Ianto caught Tosh’s attention, knowing he could rely on her to help him prevent a fight between the two men.

“Yes, Ianto, no problem.”

Ianto manoeuvred himself in front of Jack as Tosh gestured for Rhys to follow her. Gwen hung back briefly and quickly planted a kiss on Ianto’s cheek.

“What was all that about?” demanded Jack.

“Power sharing. You can be all macho and bark commands and I’ll just do what I always do … make sure things get done.”

His mouth hanging open, Jack began to wonder how many of his decisions had been Ianto’s all along. 

“Fine, I’ll take Capital Tower.” 

“Good plan. You’re definitely the man for tall buildings.”

“Me and Tosh will take the shopping centre then,” suggested Owen.

“How long do we have to find these plants, then?” Rhys asked as he looked up from the picture of the purple-leaved alien plant that Tosh had handed him.

“As long as the police can keep the public out of the way, I guess.” Jack shrugged.

“Actually – it’s a bit more urgent than that.” Tosh looked up from her laptop, chewing her lower lip nervously as she took off her glasses and set them down.

“What do you mean, Tosh?” Jack sighed, knowing from her nervousness that it had to be bad.

“These plants have an incredibly short life cycle. Working on the evidence we’ve got so far, there’s not much more than twenty-four hours between them releasing pollen and then dispersing ripened seeds, ready to germinate and then, within a week, the new plants are apparently mature enough to flower.”

“Shit!” exclaimed Owen. “That means we’ve got less than a day to find and destroy all the plants before they disperse their seeds and start up all over again. We’ve gotta stop this now.”

“There can’t be that many of them -” Gwen protested.

“Don’t you get it, Gwen?” snapped Jack. “It’s like, what are they called? Daffodils? Those yellow flowers that make those big seed heads-”

“Dandelions, Jack. The daffodil is the national flower of Wales.” Ianto rolled his eyes in despair. He wondered just how much time Jack had actually spent in Wales. 

“Yeah – those ones, you start off with one plant with a few flowers and each one makes hundred of seeds and they get blown around by the wind, landing and germinating, each then producing hundreds more seed and before you know it, they’re everywhere.”

“Except this bloody thing grows ten times faster than your average dandelion. Its population size could grow exponentially.” Owen explained the enormity of the problem they faced. “We’ve got to find every single bloody plant before any of them reach maturity and produce seeds.”


	36. Chapter 36

Gwen and Rhys had been the first to set off, heading for the Millennium Stadium, taking their own car. Torn between leaving the Hub unmanned and having every available body out searching for plants, Jack reluctantly accepted Ianto’s suggestion that Owen and Tosh should keep working on the biology of the plant – any clues on how to stop the plant reproducing could prove vital in their quest to prevent it from spreading. Owen backed up Ianto, saying he was still half way through his analysis of the plants and that they really needed a breakthrough if they were to stand a chance of success. Even though Jack accepted the change in plan, it irked him that the team seemed more willing to listen to Ianto than him, they’d not challenged him once on any of his ideas. He idly wondered if it was because Ianto made orders sound like suggestions instead of instructions. 

As Owen and Tosh set off in the direction of the autopsy bay talking animatedly about something to do with genomic differences and tertiary structures of proteins, Jack turned to look at Ianto, ready to say something biting and sarcastic. However, he was caught out by the sight of Ianto frowning as he reached a hand into his pocket, grasping for something that wasn’t there.

“I’ve still got it,” remarked Jack with a smile, he’d been wondering when Ianto would ask for it back. “It’s in my office.”

Ianto smiled back, relieved and pleased to know that Jack had found the stopwatch where he’d left it. After grabbing a shower before heading off for the police station, he’d pressed the button on the top and nestled it on his pillow. 

Hearing Ianto’s footsteps behind him, Jack plucked the stopwatch from where he’d left it leaning against the coral and held it, letting Ianto see that it was still ticking away the minutes.

“Tell me, Mr Jones, were you planning on kicking me out of my office?” 

“Well… now you mention it, I suppose I’ll need a bigger office now. How about a compromise, I’ll share this one with you, as long as we get equal use of the desk.” 

Ianto winked as he took the stopwatch in his hand and gently pressed the button down with his thumb. 

“I’m sure we can reach an amicable arrangement regarding use of office furniture… sir.” Jack couldn’t help but respond to the lecherous way in which Ianto was looking him up and down. “But for now, we’ve got alien plants to hunt.”

“Doesn’t sound as sexy as weevil hunting does it?” Ianto commented regretfully.

“No, but it’s still potentially dangerous. Just make sure you don’t take any unnecessary risks.” Jack jabbed a finger in Ianto’s direction, not having forgotten that he’d already fallen foul of the alien plant. “And for the record, I’m looking forward to seizing control of Torchwood from you by naked mud wrestling – it’s a tradition. After all, that’s how I took control back from Gwen-”

“No, it’s not – you were just upset that Gwen never took you up on the offer when you came back from your sabbatical. And, as I recall, no mud was mentioned.” 

“You just know you’ll lose,” replied Jack with a pout.

“Have you ever watched any rugby, Jack?” Ianto asked nonchalantly.

“What’s that got to do with mud wrestling?”

“Point made.” Ianto grinned wickedly for a moment and then grabbed hold of Jack by the arm, propelling him towards the stairs. “Come on, let’s go hunting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Packing the SUV with the kit he’d set aside, Ianto took one more glance at the flamethrowers and wondered out loud if it was overkill, but Jack just grinned and made a lewd comment about loving big weaponry. Realising that the more overtly sexual Jack’s comments became, the more of a distraction he was trying to create, Ianto slammed the rear door of the SUV shut with more force than necessary. 

“We’re not going to find every single plant in time, are we?” asked Ianto as he got into the vehicle and took his seat next to Jack.

“I doubt it – they’re small, they don’t need much soil and they could be growing on any rooftop between Albany Road and the sea.” 

Jack shook his head as he passed one of Tosh’s modified scanners to Ianto, having already tucked one into the outside pocket of his greatcoat, along with the set of binoculars he’d already picked up from his office.

“That’s what I thought,” Ianto sighed, slipping the scanner into a large holdall. Unlike Jack, he didn’t possess apparently bottomless pockets and he hated it when bulky kit spoiled the line of his knee length overcoat. He’d never admit that to anyone, but it mattered to him. “If only there was something we could spray on the whole city from the air-”

“It’s gonna have to be something that’s non-toxic to humans, otherwise we’ll end up with a remedy that’s far deadlier than the actual problem.” 

“So, not paraquat then.” 

Ianto looked out of the side window as Jack drove past the clusters of tourists strolling around the Plass, all completely oblivious to the potential danger in the air. He held on tight as he felt the sudden surge of acceleration that signalled that Jack was putting his foot down to beat the red lights.

“No – that’s why I agreed to your idea of keeping Owen and Tosh back at the Hub to figure out an alternative way of killing the damn things, or at least stopping them from setting seed or whatever it is they do. A method not involving a chemical that can kill people.”

Jack paused briefly and then decided there was no time like the present to grill Ianto on an issue that had been bothering him ever since the younger man had first admitted to having some of the lethal herbicide stored away. The fact that Ianto was stuck in the seat next to him with no escape, short of throwing himself out of a moving car onto Bute Street, gave him the spur to pursue the matter. 

“Talking of which – you feel like telling me why you had a stash of that stuff tucked away?” 

Ianto bit his lower lip and focused on the traffic ahead, reading the number plates of the taxi and white van that he knew Jack was about to overtake, hoping he’d be able to hide any reaction. He’d known that Jack would ask him about that, he’d just assumed they’d be too busy to deal with it immediately and that he’d have more time to prepare his answer. He should have known better. An elbow nudging him in the ribs prompted him to speak up.

“To be honest with you, I’d forgotten all about it, until Owen said that it could be used to kill the alien plant.” Ianto began to fidget with the fastenings on his holdall, unable to look Jack in the face.

“And?” Jack figured he’d only need six minutes to reach the shopping centre, so time was of the essence.

“It was a few years back. Things were different then. I wanted to have a contingency plan...” Ianto admitted quietly. He hoped that Jack would understand what he was referring to and not press him to be more specific. “In case things went badly wrong.”

“I kinda thought they did.” Jack rested a hand on Ianto’s leg and gently squeezed his thigh.

“Yeah, well – when it came to it, it didn’t seem such a good idea after all.” 

Ianto swallowed nervously, finding his mouth unexpectedly dry. No matter how hard he tried to bury the memories of those events, they were never far from the surface. Regrets and remorse churned up any logical processing of his feelings, making it almost impossible to say exactly what he meant. 

“I screwed up and I... I wanted to make amends. Lisa would never have ... never wanted me to ... I couldn’t do it ... couldn’t give up...”

Ianto sighed heavily, knowing that he'd probably made no sense whatsoever.

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t trust himself to say more right away, but he needed to say something in return for the frank confession he’d got from Ianto.

“What for?” Ianto turned to look at Jack, momentarily confused. 

“Being honest with me and … for not taking the easy way out.” Jack knew it wasn’t the same, but he’d frequently resorted to a bullet through his skull to take the edge off mental, physical and emotional pain over the decades. Naturally it was never permanent for him, so the stakes weren’t in the least bit comparable. But he had a good idea of just how much Ianto had been hurting inside and he realised what it would have taken to fight the urge to seek an exit. “I’m proud of you.”

Ianto snorted in disbelief.

“No, really. Mind you, Owen may have a different opinion-”

“As far as Owen is concerned, I bought it in before the ban came into effect just in case we ever had triffids invading Cardiff.” He’d already practised what he was going to say to Owen when he inevitably gave him the third degree about having paraquat secreted away.

“Ianto-” Jack growled, not happy at being asked to back up an outright lie, especially about something so serious.

“Please, Jack. It’s over now. Let it go.”

“OK, on the condition that if you ever-”

“Jack, I work for Torchwood.” Ianto could tell where Jack was heading and cut him off quickly to point out the irony. “A premature death is guaranteed for all. ‘Die young and leave a beautiful corpse’, that’s the company’s unofficial motto, didn’t you know?”

“Indulge me, why don’t you. You know how much I love a challenge and if it’s making sure you get to celebrate your thirtieth birthday I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Fine but remember one thing – I hate surprise parties.”

“OK. No party – how about a week in Paris?”

“Make it Rome and I might co-operate.”

“Rome? It’s the gladiator thing isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” chuckled Ianto. “That and the pizza. Not to mention the coffee of course.”

“You’re on.” Jack smiled to himself. He’d be damned if he was going to wait until Ianto turned thirty before taking him away somewhere he wanted to go for a holiday. He just hoped it wasn’t tempting fate to do so.

Jack pulled up outside the main entrance to the St David’s Centre, trying not to dwell on the morbid threads woven through the short conversation he’d just had with Ianto.

It had been agreed that they would meet with a group of police officers hand picked by Kathy Swanson and brief them on what they were looking for in the St David’s Centre. The men that Kathy had selected were old hands at fingertip searches for evidence and could work effectively as a team. 

As Ianto’s freedom was dependant on his perceived position as head of Torchwood, Jack let him do the talking, although he had to grudgingly admit that what his quieter colleague lacked in natural authority he made up for in natural charm. The officers assembled appreciated having a fellow countryman brief them on the potential threat to their home city, especially those who saw Torchwood as an organisation of outsiders, run by an American. Ianto managed to get past the natural resistance and before long he was handing out filtration masks and distributing pictures of the plants for ease of identification. Jack leaned back against the side of the SUV watching in admiration. However, he was put on guard by the sight of one of the younger policemen approaching Ianto and taking him to one side. Not letting the smile slip from his face, Jack kept a wary eye on his partner, ready to intervene if necessary. What he overheard was enough to put his mind at rest.

“Excuse me, sir, a word if I may? Just wanted you to know that not all of us are like those arseholes, Morris and Evans. There are plenty of us who think they were well out of order and deserve what’s coming to them. None of us are meant to say anything about the matter, not while it’s under investigation, but I just wanted you to know that you and Captain Harkness have got our complete cooperation. We’ll do whatever it takes to find these damned plants and wipe them out.”

“Thank you, it’s appreciated,” said Ianto earnestly, genuinely taken aback by the apology.

Jack moved quietly to Ianto’s side as the young policeman returned to his colleagues.

“That sounds promising. Glad to hear that we’re not completely on our own.”

“Yeah, I think we owe Detective Swanson the credit for that. We’re going to need all the help we can get to find these bloody plants.”

“Talking of which – you’ve got another group to help you out at the Castle. You gonna be OK dealing with them on your own?”

“Yeah – I’ll be fine. There’s a bunch of tour guides as well who’ve volunteered to help out – contacts of mine, you understand. I’m a big name in the Tourism Department I’ll have you know.”

“Doesn’t surprise me for one minute – who couldn’t be impressed by Mr Jones?”

“I can cadge a lift there with Swanson’s DS, which means you can take the company car.”

“You sure you’ll be OK?” Jack asked anxiously. 

“They’re not likely to arrest me again in the middle of a search for dangerous plants, are they?”

“I hope not, for their sake.” Jack looked grim-faced. If he found out that anyone dared lay another finger on Ianto he wouldn’t waste time talking.

“I’ll just grab what I need from the SUV and then let you get on your way.”

Once he’d collected his bag and another set of printouts and face masks, Ianto moved to the side of the SUV and leaned through the open driver’s window.

“No falling off buildings if you don’t mind. You make a hell of a mess on the pavement when you do that.”

“I’ll do my best, and you take care as well, yeah?” 

Ianto took Jack’s hand in his and grasped it tight; extracting the unspoken promise that he wouldn’t take any stupid risks. Jack squeezed his fingers in return and looked him in the eye, not happy about letting Ianto out of his sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Owen – look at this.”

“What’s that? DNA profiles for the alien plants?”

“Yes, if you look carefully the differences between the tandem repeat sequences for these two plants is more than significant. This is the one you found in the garage and this is the one sent to us from the police station.”

“Yeah – I see. But those microsatellite differences just indicate a different genotype, you wouldn’t expect all the plants to be identical, would you?”

“I’d expect them to share a good proportion of their DNA profile – seeing as they’re almost certainly from the same gene pool. There can only be one explanation for the changes here – check the sequencing that we’ve got so far – there must have been multiple point mutations in the DNA. Something in the environment must be causing them to mutate – could be anything from UV to pollutants.”

“And if they’re mutating, they could be responding to selection pressures to become better suited to survive-”

“Exactly. Natural selection on steroids. We’re probably going to end up with a new population resistant to whatever we use against it.”

“Bollocks, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, now the bloody thing is evolving. What the fuck are we going to do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come after the weekend - going away for a few days to celebrate my 60th birthday!


	37. Chapter 37

Gwen had reluctantly allowed Rhys to explain the situation at the Millennium Stadium. Her attempts had only caused confusion and consternation. Despite her best efforts, beaming smile and fluttered eyelashes, she’d still managed to inadvertently suggest that the groundsmen had failed in their sacred duty to tend the hallowed ground. Their hackles had risen with resentment at the implied criticism of their work – and it was at that point, seeing how crestfallen Gwen had become, that Rhys had stepped forward and taken over.

With a firm handshake and an exchange of names, Rhys had established a rapport that had eluded Gwen.

“It’s like this, Tony, these plants are nasty buggers, their pollen causes the hayfever from hell – one sniff and you can’t breathe.” Rhys emphasised the point by wrapping a hand around his throat, poking his tongue out and rolling his eyes up. 

Gwen sighed, on the short drive to the Stadium she’d told Rhys as much as she could about the threat from the plants. She wanted to make sure he was fully aware of the potential danger, so that he could remain safe. However, she’d told him that as far as the general public were concerned it was not an alien plant, it was just a poisonous plant that had been accidentally released into the city.

“Fuck me. Where did you say they’re from?” 

To Gwen’s annoyance the head groundsman took Rhys’ melodrama more seriously than he had her carefully phrased requests for assistance. She briskly shook her head at Rhys, whilst glaring at him and hoping he wouldn’t say they were alien plants. 

“There’s no way of knowing for certain, like, but I reckon the seeds got carried onshore from one of the cargo ships that come into port. They come from all over. Probably from somewhere tropical- like those spiders they found in boxes of bananas.” 

“Bloody hell,” swore Tony, with an exaggerated shudder. “If it wasn’t bad enough with the scorpions and tarantulas, now we’ve got toxic bloody weeds.”

The explanation that Rhys had come up with was as convincing as anything Gwen could have invented. She had to grudgingly admit that, even after all her experience talking to suspects, victims and witnesses for both the police and for Torchwood, Rhys could get people to listen where she failed. 

“What do these things look like then?”

Gwen sighed with relief and him one of the print outs she’d brought with her.

“Doesn’t look that dangerous. Have you got more of these? I can stick them up in the staff canteen maybe.”

“Here you go – I brought plenty.” Gwen handed over several more print outs. “It might not look much, but it’s put at least forty people in hospital already.” 

“So you say, but we’re on a schedule here, miss. We need to have that pitch ready for Saturday – it’s got to be at its best and that takes time.” Tony scratched his head and looked doubtful. “I can’t see how we can spare the time to help you two search the whole stadium and grounds for some foreign weeds. If you want to look around go ahead, but I’m sorry we can’t afford the time to help you. Come on boys, back to work!”

Gwen’s heart sunk suddenly, she really thought that they’d manage to persuade the groundsmen to volunteer to help them. However, she’d underestimated the determination of Rhys Williams.

“Hang on a minute! Just stop and think about it, lads - all it would take is just one stray plant. Imagine if one of our boys breathed in its pollen – just think of the consequences, man! It could cost us the match against the English.”

Gwen thought better of correcting Rhys on the precise means by which the pollen affected people. His worst-case scenario description was having the desired effect if the horrified expressions were anything to go by.

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” demanded Tony. The threat of defeat at the hands of the English finally managed to impress upon him the severity of the situation.

“Aye – but it might make their players sick – that mightn’t be such a bad idea,” chipped in one of the younger men. “This isn’t the best team we’ve fielded to be honest.”

“Don’t be daft - imagine if it was Jonny Wilkinson that collapsed, the bastards would sue us!” exclaimed Rhys. 

“He’s got a point,” stated Tony reluctantly. “Either way we’d better find these bloody things before it’s too late. Remember what happened when we had to replace all the turf because of those bloody worms?”

A collective shudder from all present made it clear that no one had forgotten the autumn of 2008, when an attack by parasitic nematodes had damaged the pitch so disastrously. 

“You need to take care.” Gwen cautioned them before they set off on the hunt. “Don’t get too close and if you see any of those plants spray them with some of this.”

“What’s that?”

“Weed killer – but don’t tell anyone, it’s stuff that’s banned by the EU,” whispered Rhys, conspiratorially. 

“Between you and me, mate, I couldn’t give a toss about EU regulations, if it kills the bloody things we’ll use it. Right lads – you know the drill when spraying herbicides – protective clothing, that means overalls, gloves and masks. Off you go, we’ll meet down on the pitch in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s brilliant, mate.” Rhys grinned. “Hey, Gwen, that gear should protect the men shouldn’t it?”

“From what Owen said before we set off, any mask designed to filter out toxic fumes will keep out the pollen grains as well.”

“Anything else, miss?” 

“No – I don’t think so. Except that if you do find any plants, it would help us if you could take a sample and put it in this container. Call me on this number.” Gwen handed over a plastic tub and a card with the main Torchwood number on it. “Thanks for all your help, it’s much appreciated.”

“Anything to make sure the best team wins on Saturday, miss. As long as it’s Wales that is.”

“Dere ’mlaen Cymru!” Rhys punched the air with his fist.

“Cymru am byth!” responded several of the groundsmen with big grins on their faces as they headed off to do battle with anything that stood in the way of a Welsh win.

“Hey, Gwen love?” asked Rhys, frowning. “Those parasitic worms that invaded the pitch in 2008, they weren’t alien worms were they?”

“I have no idea, Rhys.” Gwen chuckled. Ever since finding out that not only did aliens exist, but that they were frequent visitors to Cardiff through the Rift, Rhys became quite excited at the prospect of any inexplicable event being a result of alien activity. “Come on, work to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto accepted a mug of tea as he sat down in the visitors’ centre where he’d arranged to meet the assembled group of tour guides and police officers. The tea was so strong he could feel the tannin coating his teeth on the first sip, which made him accept the sugar when it was offered, heaping three teaspoonfuls in make it palatable. The added energy boost wouldn’t go amiss either he rationalised to himself. He also availed himself of the chocolate hobnobs as well. He couldn’t help overhearing one of the older men moaning to a colleague that the only reason the biscuits had appeared was to impress the bigwig from the Welsh Tourist Board.

A chubby man, in tweed jacket and bow tie, ambled into the office, looking quite flustered. He took off his wire-rimmed glasses and wiped them with a large handkerchief before perching them back on the end of his nose.

“Geraint Edwards, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” the man introduced himself as he grabbed hold of Ianto’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “I am so sorry I wasn’t here earlier, but I got called to the front desk to deal with a coach party of school kids, from Merthyr Tydfil. Sorted now, thank goodness. Can I just say, Mr Jones, that it’s an honour to have you here, personally heading the investigation.”

Ianto forced himself to smile politely and was immensely grateful that Jack wasn’t with him. He would never let him live this down.

“We got the instruction to close the gates and to clear the place of visitors. The police said there were reports of poisonous plants in the vicinity. I’d like to reassure you, sir, that the castle walls are regularly sprayed to inhibit the growth of mosses and other plants, as a conservation measure.”

“That’s excellent news – well done, Geraint.” Ianto was genuinely pleased to hear that the walls of the castle had been treated, it made his task a lot more manageable. “Naturally, you understand that, in light of the outstandingly high volume of tourists that are attracted to the castle, it’s in the best interests of the Welsh Tourist Board that any dangerous plants be located and destroyed before the castle can open its gates again.” 

It didn’t take long for Ianto to have the tour guides eating out of his hand. They couldn’t help but be impressed by the smart young man in the sharp suit. They eagerly studied the pictures they were given and asked lots of pertinent questions regarding how to handle the poisonous plants. It was Ianto’s suggestion that each police officer team up with a tour guide for more efficient searching of the extensive grounds.

Satisfied that the Castle grounds would be searched thoroughly, Ianto decided to walk the short distance to the building where Jack had been headed. He decided that he’d join him on his roof top, two pairs of eyes would be better than one he figured. The idea had been that from the top of the tallest building in central Cardiff, Jack would be able to check out the surrounding roof tops using binoculars and Tosh would record the findings on her satellite images before sending in the fire appliances where there were positive sightings.

The trouble was that Jack wasn’t responding to his calls.

As Ianto dashed across Duke Street opposite the Hilton Hotel, dodging buses and taxis that sounded their horns at him angrily, he impatiently tapped his earpiece. 

“Come on, Jack, answer me,” he muttered as he broke into a run. Silence from Jack was never a good sign.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus extra chapter today - make sure to read chapter 37 first!
> 
>  
> 
> ******************************

“Tosh? Have you heard anything from Jack in the last half hour?” asked Ianto, trying not to sound too agitated.

_“He checked in about twenty minutes ago, but I’ve heard nothing since – is there a problem, Ianto?”_

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Ianto shook his head as he stood on the pavement outside the Capital Tower, staring up at the twenty-five floors of glass and concrete. “Jack’s never silent unless he’s either thinking of causing trouble or up to his neck in it.”

_“Tracing him now – he’s on the top of the Tower – that is where he was heading, wasn’t it?”_

“Yep. Can you try to get through to him?” 

Ianto walked towards the front entrance, shaking his head in dismay as he saw the SUV parked up on the kerb. Opening the back of the Torchwood vehicle, he tried to figure out what Jack had taken with him. There was still a lot of kit left behind from what he could see, although it was nowhere near as tidy as it had been when he’d initially packed it.

_“Ianto – I’m not getting anything from Jack either, the channel’s open, but there’s no response.”_

“Shit, that’s not good. I’m going up to see what the hell’s happened to him-”

 _“Ianto –you need to know that the plants are mutating!”_ Tosh interrupted urgently. _“Your scanner won’t necessarily pick up any traces of them-”_

“I’ll take precautions. Don’t worry.”

_“Ianto – you should call for back up. You don’t know what you’re facing-”_

“I don’t have time for that – goodness knows what’s happened to Jack! I need to get to him now!”

_“I understand, Ianto. Just – take care, please. Stay in touch and keep me updated – got that?”_

“Loud and clear. I’ve going in now, Tosh.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Damn!” Tosh shouted out angrily.

“What’s up now?” Owen had heard one side of the frantic conversation between Tosh and Ianto and wondered what it had taken to upset her. 

“Jack’s gone silent on a roof top and Ianto isn’t waiting for back up, he’s charging in with no idea what he’s facing. That’s what!”

“Fuck. I thought he knew better by now.” Owen rubbed his face wearily and shucked off his lab coat in favour of a leather jacket. “Call Gwen – I’ll meet up with her there, so we can be on hand to rescue our heroic leader and his loyal sidekick if they need help.” 

Owen had a niggling feeling that he’d be in need of his medical kit again before the day was through.

“What about me?” 

“Someone has to stay here.” Owen didn’t add that he wanted Tosh to stay in the Hub where she’d be safe – there was no way he was that stupid. “I need you to keep an eye on those cultures of alien plant cells I’ve set up. As soon as we’ve got viable numbers of cells we can start to find out what it takes to kill the bastards.”

“They’re just plants, they’re not exactly doing this with malicious intent.” 

“They’re not just plants, they’re alien plants that are making people sick and pissing me off. At least they can’t affect me, so I won’t have to worry about wearing a bloody face mask.”

“You can still carry pollen on your clothes. You can’t risk bringing it into the Hub.”

“Shit – you’ve got a point. I’ll grab a hazmat suit from the locker room and head out to the garage that way – let me know when you’ve called Gwen.”

As Tosh waited for Gwen to answer her mobile, she tapped her feet impatiently. She had a bad feeling about Jack’s unexpected silence and suspected that both he and Ianto would be in need of as much support as the rest of the team could provide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto pushed his way through the small group of people gathered inside the lobby of the building. Office workers by the looks of their suits and ID lanyards – probably employed by the insurance company that was based in the Capital Tower. He had no time for courtesy or politeness, so he just barged his way through- ignoring the protests as he elbowed his way through the noisy throng. However, he found his path further blocked by a security guard standing next to a barrier in front of the lifts. 

“What’s going on?” Ianto demanded.

“Bloody Torchwood, that’s what,” grumbled the middle-aged man, who looked at the end of his tether. “So there’s no point you trying to get back to your office. You may as well go join the rest of your mates over there. I think they’re heading off for a coffee or a beer.”

Ianto shook his head as it dawned on him that the security guard had taken one look at his suit and decided he was another employee from one of the offices in the building.

“I take it you’ve spoken to Captain Harkness then?”

“You Torchwood as well then?” 

“Yes – and if you could answer my question I’d really appreciate it.”

“Not directly - he used the emergency phone in the lift, told me he was sending down those blokes. Said that once they got to the ground floor I was to close off the lifts and not let anyone use them under any circumstances.”

Ianto looked to the side where the security guard had indicated, spotting two men in blue overalls slumped on the floor around the corner from the lifts. One of them was still struggling to breathe, despite the ministrations of the St John’s Ambulance first aider crouching down next to him. 

“Who are they? What happened to them?”

“Window cleaners- they were up top setting up the cradle and winch. I’d given them the roof access key first thing this morning. I’ve no idea what’s wrong, but they both fell sick and it was your man that sent them down in the lift.” 

Ianto swore under his breath – that confirmed the presence of the plants they were looking for.

“I expect you’ll be wanting to get up there as well, right?”

“Yes and I am not going up the bloody stairs.” Ianto gave the security guard his stern look that he hoped would outweigh what he assumed had been Jack’s threatening voice. 

“He did say no one was to go up-” asserted the security guard, looking uncertain.

“I’ll make sure he blames me, don’t worry.” 

Ianto rolled his eyes as he pressed the button to open the lift. That was when he caught sight of what was lying on the floor next to the ailing window cleaners – a Torchwood issue face mask. He could only assume that Jack must have given his breathing mask to one of those men. He wondered what had possessed Jack to stay up on the roof instead of coming back down with the window cleaners. 

“Shit – bloody idiot,” Ianto muttered under his breath. He could only too easily visualise exactly what had happened and could imagine Jack collapsed somewhere on the roof top.

“Hang on – I need to fetch some more kit. Hold the lift and don’t let anyone up there!”

Ianto dashed outside and opened the SUV – he had a bad feeling about this and seemed to think that now was the time to get the extra equipment out of the vehicle.

“Oh my God - is that what it looks like?” called out the security guard as Ianto ran past him loaded down with assorted pieces of heavy equipment.

“What do you think it looks like?” asked Ianto innocuously, pressing the uppermost of the buttons on the panel on the wall of the lift.

Before the startled man had the opportunity to respond, Ianto pressed the button to close the lift doors. He slung the over sized weapon over his shoulder and fitted his face mask carefully, making sure that it was sealed around his eyes, nose and mouth. In one hand he held the scanner making sure he relayed the data back to Tosh. She was monitoring the input back at the Hub and was ready to give him any additional advice as and when he needed it.

Opening the door on the top floor, Ianto made for the stairs leading to the exit onto the roof top itself.

The scanner picked up nothing out of the ordinary – no signature molecules associated with the alien pollen. Ianto almost took off his face mask but thought better of it. He’d suffered enough once already and wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. 

Looking from side to side he couldn’t see any sign of Jack. The lift motor room, housing the machinery that operated the lifts, blocked off part of the roof from view and as he cautiously made his way behind it, he was shocked to see a huge swathe of purple plants. They were apparently thriving in the sediments that had built up in the lee of the concrete structure on top of the roof. These plants were very different from the ones he’d seen so far though, they were much larger, with longer leaves and thick, cord like tendrils that seemed to be reaching out to clutch hold of pipes and any protuberances sticking out – allowing them to grow upwards towards the light. 

As a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds it shone on something that wasn’t purple - a dark blue shape partially hidden beneath a mass of tendrils. The shade of blue was familiar, as was the grey woollen fabric that was folded over it. 

“Oh fuck! Jack!”

Running across to the half-buried, motionless heap, Ianto reached out automatically to pull the tendrils away from the body.

“Shit!” 

He’d been startled as the sap from the broken stems stung his hands. Turning them palm side up he could see that they’d already blistered. Cursing his lack of caution, he pulled out a pair of disposable gloves from a jacket pocket and rapidly put them on. He clutched hold of Jack’s leg and shook it hard, hoping for some response, but there was none. He recommenced trying to tear the tendrils free from Jack, only to find his own ankles catching in the thick undergrowth of the plants – it was almost as if they were growing even whilst he stood there. A burning sensation on the back of his left ankle made him yelp as he realised that a tendril had wound its way under the hem of his trousers and had stung him.

There was nothing for it but to use the Torchwood issue flamethrower. It bore little resemblance to any type of flamethrower ever used for military or agricultural purposes, having been designed by Tosh with input from Jack. Hauling the weapon into position, he released the safety catches and pressed the ignition switch. Within moments the pressurised gas caught fire and as a jet of flame hit the edge of the plants they instantly shrivelled up, burnt to a crisp. It was too late to realise that he wasn’t wearing appropriate clothing to protect him from the scorching heat, but there was no time to go all the way down to the ground floor and back up again. Ianto adjusted the nozzle to direct a narrow, fierce blue flame at the plants in an arcing pattern, clearing a pathway to Jack.

Not wanting to risk setting fire to Jack, never mind his coat, Ianto stopped when he’d razed enough to be able to get close without standing on any living plants. The fact that he’d yet to see any sign of life from Jack worried him enormously. Carefully putting the flamethrower back by the steps leading to the lift shaft, Ianto ran back to Jack’s side, rolled him onto his back, hooked his arms under the shoulders of his lifeless lover and dragged him back to the door he’d come through. As a deadweight, Jack was very heavy.

Collapsing against the wall in the relative shelter of the lift motor room, Ianto pulled Jack onto his lap and took a good look at him. He was horrified to see the angry red welts across the usually handsome face – he looked as if acid had been thrown at him. 

Breathing rapidly, desperate to repay the oxygen debt that had his muscles burning with pain, Ianto ran his gloved fingers through Jack’s hair.

“Come on Jack, come back to me. Come on.”

As he watched patiently, the sores across Jack’s cheeks slowly began to fade and heal. 

Ianto tapped his earpiece.

“Tosh? You know you said the plants were mutating?”


	39. Chapter 39

An uncoordinated arm swung wildly into the air, only stopping as it collided with Ianto’s bruised nose.

“Fuck!” 

Ianto flinched as the sharp pain penetrated his skull. Although getting accidentally thumped, kicked or punched was an occupational hazard of holding onto Jack as he revived, he could have done without any more injuries to his face. He sniffed uneasily, really hoping his nose wouldn’t start bleeding again, as there was no way he’d mange to keep that hidden from Jack. 

“Easy there. It’s alright, you’re OK now … easy does it, Jack, I’ve got you.” 

Jack calmed down as he felt Ianto take hold of his arms, firmly restraining him to keep both of them from further harm. Much as he despised dying and the incipient pain of being dragged back into the land of the living, it was undeniably easier when the first thing he heard was Ianto gently easing him back. 

“Ianto?” Jack’s voice cracked as he tried to speak. His throat felt swollen and raw, as if he’d downed a gallon of hypervodka neat. Jack twisted his head around to try to see Ianto, he needed to see for himself that he was alright. His voice had sounded strange.

“Best if you try not to talk, you’re still healing – looked like acid burns of some sort.” Ianto spoke slowly as he pulled Jack back against his chest. There were still reddened sores visible on his face and he could feel him trembling slightly. It worried him that whatever had killed Jack was still affecting him. Ianto stroked Jack’s head and did his best to reassure him as he shuffled around on the hard concrete floor to get them into a more comfortable position. 

“Acid?” Jack mumbled, blinking in frustration, everything seemed blurred and out of focus. It always took time after coming back to life for him to fully assess his physical condition and he was beginning to realise that not only was his throat sore, but his eyes were stinging. “Eyes? My eyes – are they-?”

Jack tugged an arm free from Ianto’s grip and was about to drag his hand across his face when Ianto intervened and grabbed hold of it. Not letting go of Jack’s hand, he turned him around in his lap so that he could check how well he was healing.

“Hang on – let’s see. Yes, your eyes were damaged as well.” Ianto grimaced as he saw the bloodshot whites of Jack’s eyes and the blood-streaked tears that ran from them. “How bad does it hurt? And don’t even think of lying to me.”

“I thought you told me not to talk,” Jack shot back, irritated for reasons that were slowly filtering through to his conscious brain. He was annoyed that he’d needed rescuing yet again. He was angry at himself for underestimating the potency of the plants’ toxins. And he really wished that Ianto didn’t have cause to call him on hiding truths from him. 

“Less of the attitude – stop pouting and tell me what you need.” Ianto rolled his eyes and wondered idly about Jack’s tendency to come back to life as if he’d got out of bed the wrong side. He was slowly learning that it took different tactics each time to snap him out of his mood. “What’s it to be then? Smack around the head or do you want me to kiss it better?”

“And you accuse me of having an attitude?” slurred Jack as he reached up and put an arm about Ianto’s neck. He pulled him down and pulled the face mask away for just long enough to steal a messy kiss. “Yeah, that worked, feel much better now.”

The fact that Jack closed his eyes as he slumped back down into Ianto’s lap failed to convince him that he was being completely truthful. Ianto shook his head in despair and once he was satisfied that Jack was resting in his lap comfortably, he tapped his earpiece and spoke urgently to Tosh. He was reassured to hear that Owen was on his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Owen!” Gwen yelled out as she flung open the door of Rhys’ car. “We’re over here!”

“Thank fuck for that.” Owen staggered across from where he’d been sitting down, tugging the protective overalls up over his slim hips and then sliding his arms into the sleeves. By the time he reached Gwen and her husband he was struggling with the zip. “About bloody time- what kept you? Holding onto seats for the match on Saturday?”

“We got here as soon as we could, mate, so don’t have a go-” Rhys strode forward, belligerently jabbing his finger at Owen.

“It’s alright, love.” Gwen put her hand out to calm her husband down. The last thing she needed was a row between Owen and Rhys. “So, Owen – what’s going on? Tosh said that Ianto needed back up, but she didn’t give any details. Have they found something?”

“Sounds like it. Either I need to change the locks on the drugs cabinet, or Ianto was right and those bloody plants really are Triffids.”

“What? Drugs? Triffids?” Rhys looked baffled.

“Rhys!” Gwen hissed at him in warning and then turned her glare back to Owen. “He’s got a point though - what are you on about?”

“Ianto reckons there are bloody big plants up there. He told Tosh they were growing fast enough to trap Jack in a mesh of tendrils and he thinks they were starting to digest him.”

“You have got to be joking!” Gwen shook her head slowly from side to side. She was about to either burst out laughing or thump Owen for playing a cruel trick on her; that was until she saw the deadly serious expression on his face. “Owen, tell me you’re taking the piss – Owen?”

“I only know what Ianto told Tosh, but it sounds likes Jack is in trouble and they could do with some help. I don’t think you should risk going up there, but I’ve got nothing to lose – just make sure no one else follows.”

“One more thing, Owen – just why are you putting the suit on?”

“Because if those bastard plants start digesting me, I won’t mend!” hissed Owen, hoping he didn’t have to explain the consequences to Gwen, not with her husband paying very close attention to their conversation. 

“Poor Jack,” muttered Gwen, looking up towards the roof of the building. “It must have been awful-”

“Don’t worry about him,” drawled Owen. “I’m sure Ianto will kiss him better.” 

Owen hadn’t failed to spot the way Gwen’s face fell when he emphasised the fact that Ianto would provide any comfort, fortunately Rhys missed it. He resolved to have a good talk to her sometime in the near future; he thought she’d learnt not to take what Rhys offered for granted. It had taken dying for Owen to fully appreciate Tosh’s companionship, by the time he’d recognised the depth of their friendship, he’d squandered his affections on shallow relationships, flings and one-night stands. 

“Right then – I’m going up. Have blankets ready and biohazard bags for their clothes. All in the back of the SUV. Might even be some spare clothes in there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto?” Jack stirred in Ianto’s lap, trying clumsily to push himself up into a sitting position. “What the hell happened?”

Jack’s voice was stronger than it had been and he was no longer shaking. The fact that it had taken a while for him to recover completely had only made Ianto more anxious. It took a lot to knock Jack out that badly and despite Ianto’s spree with the flamethrower there were still some plants left alive on the roof top. Meanwhile the fire doors in the lift motor room were keeping them safe from harm, which was a relief. 

“I was hoping you could enlighten me.” Ianto cleared his throat, getting ready to read Jack the riot act. “You sent down two men, one of them wearing your face mask and then instead of making a strategic retreat and calling for support, you decided to go back out there, to face the plants from hell on your own. What were you thinking? Oh, don’t bother answering that -”

“It wasn’t like that, I-”

“Hush, you can hear me out first.” Ianto pressed a finger against Jack’s lips, silencing him. “By the time I arrive, not having heard a bloody word from you, I come up to the roof garden here and find you face down, being engulfed in a sea of purple fucking plants, blistered to hell … and dead! You were dead. Again.”

“Oh, I take it you’re pissed off with me again?” Jack cringed as he caught the expression on Ianto’s face that made any response to his question redundant. 

“No more than usual. Sir.”

Ianto pushed himself up onto his feet and held out a hand for Jack. He was surprised when Jack seemed reluctant to accept any assistance and then winced when he realised why. Jack was staring at the blistered skin on the palm of his hand. Before he could turn his hand over, Jack had grabbed hold of him by the wrist and looked up at him, eyes narrowed and demanding an explanation.

“I tried to pull the plants off you - by hand. I know it was stupid.”

“That looks bad – doesn’t it hurt?”

“A bit.” 

Ianto frowned. He’d peeled the gloves off once he’d got Jack to safety, they were making his hands sweat and were sticking to the open sores. There was some discomfort and a slight itching, but not as painful as he’d expected. At the time his priority had been Jack. It was only now that he remembered having burnt his hands at all. 

“You make sure Owen sees to those. Is it just this hand or both?”

“Both,” sighed Ianto in resignation. Somehow Jack had managed to turn the tables, making him the guilty party for having got his hands burnt, which seemed a bit extreme considering he wasn’t the one who’d got himself killed and partly digested.

Jack slowly stood up, carefully scrutinising Ianto for any other injuries, his eyes tracing a route across each shoulder, down the tie, slowly past the belt and down the thighs, and then his breath caught in his throat. 

“Your suit is burnt! Dammit – is the acid that strong?” Jack glared as he noted the scorch marks on the fine wool of Ianto’s dark grey suit trousers. He hoped that Ianto hadn’t suffered any other burns.

“Bloody hell, not another suit ruined!” Ianto hadn’t noticed the damage earlier, when he’d been sitting down with Jack draped across his legs, but he wasn’t altogether surprised. “No – that’s nothing to do with the plants.”

“What was it then?” Jack demanded, trying to fathom what on earth could have caused the damage he could see.

“Flamethrower,” muttered Ianto, turning away from Jack, not daring to see his reaction.

“What?!”


	40. Chapter 40

“What?!”

“You heard.” Ianto nonchalantly pointed at the Torchwood issue flamethrower propped up against the wall in an unintentional juxtaposition next to a fire extinguisher.

“That flamethrower?” exclaimed Jack. “What the hell –? I’m damn sure I never gave you weapons training with that!”

“Nope. And, for the record, your idea of weapons training contravenes every law regarding harassment in the workplace ever drafted. If you must know, I found the specs one day when you’d all pissed off chasing ghosts or sex gas monsters or something.”

“So, let me get this right, you got bored and played with the dangerous weapons locked up in the secure store?” Jack shook his head and then grinned broadly. “See, that’s what I love about you.”

Jack’s laughter broke the tension that had been building. 

“You gonna tell me what you had to use the big flamethrower for?”

“The only way I could get through to you – believe it or not.”

“Oh, I wish I’d seen that.” 

Jack smiled fondly at Ianto and wondered what it would take to persuade him to give a private performance in the shooting range. Before he could broach the subject with Ianto, their attention was drawn to the sound of something bulky making its way up the stairs from the floor below.

“What the hell is that?” demanded Jack, springing to his feet.

“Great – I see you two didn’t need me after all!” groused Owen as he let go of two heavy cases of equipment. 

“On the contrary, Owen,” responded Ianto with a grin. “You’re the one collecting alien plant specimens. There are some out there that you haven’t got in your collection. They’ll need a new name – I’m thinking along the lines of ‘teenage ninja mutant beanstalks’, but it’s not very short and snappy-”

Ianto stopped as he realised that Owen was bestowing upon him one of those withering looks he usually saved for Jack.

“He’s got burns on his hands, they need treatment,” blurted out Jack, taking advantage of the fact that Owen was glaring at Ianto to point out that he needed medical attention.

“Thank you, Doctor Harkness. I take it that you’re fine then? Apparently you managed to get yourself killed by these new mutant plants – any side effects?”

“Yes, I died. But I’m alright now.” Jack’s assurances would have carried more weight if he hadn’t forced them out from between gritted teeth.

“You arrived just in time to hear Jack explain how he got ambushed by a plant. How it killed him before he could defend himself – or just walk away for that matter.”

Although Ianto was addressing Owen, he didn’t take his eyes off Jack. He needed to remind him that he was still furious and that the distraction hadn’t made him forget what he’d been asking beforehand.

“Oh goodie, I love Jack’s stories. Come on, let’s hear it then.” Owen’s sarcasm served to bolster the anger that Ianto was feeling and between them they had Jack squirming slightly under their scrutiny.

“Yeah well – I get up here and find these two guys, one looks like he’s having a massive asthma attack – so I put two and two together, figured there must be plants up here –”

“And totally ignored your own instructions about calling for back up?” Ianto interjected with a raised eyebrow.

“No! It wasn’t like that – I was going to call in, but… thing is I couldn’t see any plants and I didn’t want to call in a false alarm …so … I kinda decided to have a quick look around first –”

“Without a face mask!” exclaimed Ianto.

“He what?”

“Oh yes, he’d given that to one of the window cleaners –”

“Of all the stupid fucking-”

“I figured that it would be fine if I held my breath and had a quick look around. I needed to make sure there wasn’t anyone else up here.” Jack shrugged and almost succeeded in making his recklessness seem reasonable in the circumstances. 

“So, what the fuck happened?”

“I tripped,” muttered Jack.

“You what?” demanded Ianto, sounding incredulous. 

“Hey – am I suffering déjà vu or have you two started sounding like twins?” Jack pointed at Ianto and then at Owen, seemingly aggrieved by the fact that they were ganging up on him.

“Let’s go back to where you said that you tripped.” Ianto gently bit down on his lower lip. “How?”

“I caught my foot on something – couldn’t stop myself from falling.” Jack was loathe to admit to having been anything other than athletic and dashing, especially in front of Ianto. “Must have lost my Bluetooth when I fell – I did try to call for back up, but I couldn’t find it.”

“That would have been when you were up to your neck in man-eating, acid-secreting triffids then, yes?” 

“Up to his neck?” 

“They were all over him-”

“It’s my irresistible charm, what can I say?” Jack latched onto an escape route from his humiliation and grabbed hold of it in grim desperation, although the grin was probably inadvisable.

“If you don’t want your special privileges withdrawn indefinitely, I’d suggest saying nothing more along those lines.” Ianto glared at Jack, before turning back to Owen. “More like Dorothy in the poppy field – out for the count.”

“Any idea how it killed you?”

Jack frowned as he tried to recall exactly what happened once he’d fallen into the mass of thick green tendrils. 

“There was a burning sensation, like lemon juice on a cut – and then I couldn’t see. I don’t know what happened next. I don’t remember a thing until I came around in here. Ianto rescued me.” Jack smiled at Ianto and was relieved to see his expression soften.

“Chances are there won’t be anything in your blood to give us a clue as to what this mutation’s special trick is. Fuck it.”

“You want me to go back out there again to find out what happens?” Jack shrugged insouciantly, as if offering to go out and die was part and parcel of his responsibilities. 

“No point.” Owen shook his head. “With all due respect, Jack, your body doesn’t exactly fulfil the requirements for any form of clinical or non-clinical trials. I need to collect specimens to take back to the Hub, but as it won’t affect me, we’re not going to learn anything that way either.”

“What about me-” 

“No!”

“NO!!”

“Why not? Owen’s got his kit here, he can be ready to counteract whatever it does – I could just go out there for a short while and see what it does.”

“Not happening, Ianto.” Jack took the precaution of moving in front of the fire doors and folding his arms across his chest. 

“No fucking way am I taking a risk on not being able to cure whatever it does,” pointed out Owen. “For a start he would tear me to pieces if it went wrong!”

“OK, OK.” Ianto held his hands up in surrender, knowing he was beaten when Owen agreed with Jack. “So, what do we do then?”

“Am I back in charge now?” asked Jack, winking at Ianto.

“Don’t count on it, Harkness, for all we know, Gwen’s turned the power off to the lift, abandoning us all up here, and taken control by now.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Owen.” Ianto looked horrified. “There’s no way I’m carrying that all the way down twenty-five floors of stairs.”

Owen rolled his eyes as he spotted the oversized flamethrower.

“Alright, how about this? I collect samples, while Ianto gets to torch the rest of them and then we all get the hell out of here.”

“What about me?” Jack asked petulantly, not liking the way he’d been sidelined once more. “Can’t I get to torch the plants?”

“He’s still got his face mask. Anyway, you’d better talk to Gwen, let her know you’re both alright and while you’re at it you can tell her you won’t be needing the blankets after all. If there were any contaminants on your clothes that would’ve caused problems. Come to think of it, Ianto would probably be dead by now.”

“What?!” Jack looked down at his coat askance. He’d not stopped to think that whatever had killed him could still be on his clothes.

“He’s not dead-”

“Standing here – and definitely not dead.” Ianto reached out to stop Jack falling into a self-imposed guilt trap. “There’s something else we need to do – we have to call off all the other search parties. There’s no way of telling what’s out there.”

“Dammit, you’re right. There’s nothing for it – we’ll have to impose curfews, get the whole population of central Cardiff to stay indoors.”

“Are you going to call Kathy, or shall I?” Ianto looked pained as he realised what Jack’s answer would be.

“As far as she’s concerned, you’re the boss. After this, she’s going to love it when I’m back in charge.”


	41. Chapter 41

The charred, twisted remains steamed gently as the rain began to fall on the roof top of the Capital Tower. Nothing recognisable had been left, although in a few places there were blackened silhouettes of frond-like leaves on the grey concrete, although they were becoming less distinct as the rain washed away the temporary prints.

Elsewhere the rain provided a solution of nutrients readily absorbed by the increasingly diverse offspring of the original plant. Growing in an environment devoid of and competitors, not to mention any living thing that could safely feed upon it, the alien plants had flourished in ways that would have taken so much longer on their home planet. Here they had found rich sources of hydrocarbons in the air, acidified rain water and ideal concentrations of the heavy metal ions their photosynthetic pigments required. They had adapted to survive on a world very different from the one the rift had delivered them to, but the conditions could not have been better for their success. In their natural environment, it would have taken several long generations for them to reach the stage where they were ready to exploit large protein-rich organisms as sources of amino acids, but here there were no obstacles to their development. They had also benefitted from the high levels of UV radiation, which had ensured that the genetic transformations that occurred in their complex life cycle commenced at a much accelerated rate.

Around the city, there were shoots of the frail pioneer stage plants growing out of blocked drains and gutters, but up on the higher rooftops, where there were higher light levels, the tertiary stage forms were thriving. Thick purple vines clung to anything they encountered as they grew, enabling the fronds of the finely divided leaves to absorb the wavelengths of light they favoured. As the stems of separate plants intertwined they fused with one another, to form a single organism, nutrients circulating about the whole, with specific parts becoming specialised for particular functions. All they needed was a rich source of amino acids and they could embark on the production of two specific proteins for the final stage of their development – actin and myosin, the protein building blocks of muscle fibres. Then there would be no stopping them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto sighed as he looked down at his bandaged hands and then in the direction of the coffee machine longingly. It had been bad enough that Owen had taken great pleasure in pointing out how stupid he’d been to handle the plants with bare hands – making sure to labour the fact that it wasn’t as if Jack had been in any danger of becoming more dead while he paused to put on a pair of gloves. The only upside was that Owen had been equally scathing in his comments to Jack, regarding idiots who allowed themselves to be tripped up by a plant. He didn’t normally go along with Owen’s taunting of Jack, but there were times when he deserved it.

Since putting through the call to DI Kathy Swanson, requesting an immediate curfew be placed on all the residents of central Cardiff, using the relevant authorisation codes, Ianto had found himself side-lined in the Hub. Jack had sympathetically placed a glass of water and a bottle of paracetamol on his desk, knowing from experience that he’d be suffering a spectacular headache after the conversation he’d had with Kathy.

Rubbing his face, Ianto wondered what Jack’s reaction would have been if he’d passed on the news he’d got from Kathy. At least she’d sounded remorseful when she’d told him that Morris and Evans had been allowed to return to their homes, suspended from duty, but otherwise free to do as they wished. She had apologised to Ianto, but had explained that the charges against the two men stood and that there would be a full investigation. In light of what Torchwood needed from the police in the way of co-operation and enforcement of a city-wide curfew, it seemed churlish to kick up a fuss. Meanwhile, Ianto decided it was prudent to keep that morsel of less than good news to himself. No wonder his head hurt. 

The row that had exploded as soon as everyone had reconvened in the Hub had also contributed to the sharp stabbing pains that radiated from his temples across his skull. It was meant to be a debriefing to brainstorm for ideas on how to tackle the worsening situation. Owen had facetiously proposed dumping napalm across the central office district of the city, of course Gwen had taken him seriously and had reacted as only she could, which naturally prompted Owen to resort to baiting her even more. That’s when Rhys had waded in to defend Gwen and support her arguments, which was the tipping point for giving Jack an excuse to yell at everyone to calm down. Jack had kicked his seat back and stood up impressively looming over the rest of them sitting around the boardroom table and demanded they all respect each other’s opinions. He might have pulled it off if hadn’t then gone on to comment on the effectiveness of the flamethrower and describe the impact that firebombing had on London during the 1940’s.

The outcome of the discussion was that once they discovered an agent that would kill the plants, without causing wide scale defoliation or burning the city to the ground, they would have to find a means of dispersing it across every building and landmark for several square miles. Ianto had managed to dissuade Jack from pursuing the idea of an aggressive aerial bombardment and encouraged him to compromise on using a crop spraying ’plane instead. Jack had agreed on the condition he’d be the one to fly it.

So, whilst everyone else had scattered to complete their allocated task, Ianto was busy  
sourcing a crop sprayer ’plane and falsifying the relevant licences that would authorise Jack to pilot such a vehicle. He’d painstakingly explained to Jack that just because he’d flown Lancaster bombers in the war, and apparently a variety of space ships, he didn’t automatically have the freedom of the air, at least not as far as the Civil Aviation Authorities were concerned. 

Whilst waiting to hear back from a company in England, Ianto sat back and watched Owen dash from the autopsy bay to the hot house and back again. Tosh had set up a series of micro habitats in which to grow their plant specimens that had already grown large enough for them to commence trials. In their meeting, Owen had explained that, although he’d been surprised that the calluses from the tissue cultures had already begun to develop leaflets and roots, the rapid growth rate was advantageous in their race against time to find a suitable agent to kill the plants. Tosh had reported back on having made promising progress with the spectrographic analysis of the compounds she’d purified from the plants they had collected. Ianto was impressed with how well Owen and Tosh worked together and was optimistic about them discovering a means of saving the population of Cardiff from the plants he’d grown to hate with a vengeance.

Ianto spun around on his chair, beginning to feel even more useless, and looked up towards Jack’s office where he was engaged in a frantic discussion with Gwen. He smiled as he saw Gwen throw her arms up in apparent despair at something Jack had said before storming out onto the balcony. He suspected the subject of their heated argument was Rhys, but at least he’d managed to be helpful – he’d gone out and collected food for everyone, except Owen of course. Ianto watched on as Gwen grabbed her jacket and keys and called for Rhys to follow her, he couldn’t help but sympathise with his fellow Welshman, and wondered if he looked just as pathetic loyally following Jack.

Shaking his head to clear images of loyal pets, leashes and collars, Ianto refreshed his mailbox unnecessarily – still no reply. He’d try phoning again in a while, but not before having some coffee. If he was put on hold once more and had to endure listening to the music these companies insisted on drip feeding into his brain, he would have to kill someone, or at least stun them heavily. 

Nobody seemed to notice as he made his way across to the kitchenette area, they were all busy doing something useful. Ianto felt clumsy as he tried to open the tin of coffee beans and pour a measured quantity into the grinder, but he took his time and succeeded without spilling any. His hands were beginning to feel itchy, which he put down to the ointment that Owen had sprayed on before covering the sores. The itchiness was becoming more of a hindrance as he flexed his hands to manipulate the various levers that only he understood how to operate. It was developing into pins and needles, and it was getting progressively worse. 

“Shit!” shouted Ianto, as a stabbing pain caused his hand to spasm, knocking over the tray of dirty mugs he had been pushing to one side.

The combination of Ianto screaming and the sound of half a dozen mugs shattering on the metal floors got everyone’s attention. 

“What’s the matter?” demanded Jack, suddenly at his side. “What is it?”

Despite Ianto’s assumption that no one had been paying any heed to him, Jack had been watching over him surreptitiously and had furtively followed him in the hope that he was going to brew some decent coffee. He’d been observing him going about the usual tasks, hindered by the bandages, but Jack knew better than to offer Ianto help when making coffee. 

“Hey, leave them where they are.” Jack took hold of Ianto’s arm and held him back, preventing him from attempting to clear away the broken crockery. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a twinge in my hand, that’s all –”

Ianto rolled his eyes as he felt Jack’s grip tighten on his arm. Unfortunately, Jack knew him too well. However, he did realise that Ianto was feeling awkward about having distracted the rest of the team from their tasks. 

“It’s OK. I’ve got it – nothing to see.” Jack called over his shoulder to Tosh who was hovering in the background with a worried expression on her face. 

“Let me see. Come on.” Jack took hold of Ianto’s wrists and turned his hands to face palm upwards. The reddish stains leaking through in patches made it patently obvious that there was a problem. 

“Oh,” said Ianto, with a frown.

“Ok, let’s try that question once more. What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.” Ianto reluctantly admitted. “Like someone’s sticking red-hot needles in my skin.”

“I see – and that’s your definition of just a twinge?” Jack’s eyebrows twitched upwards. “Time to let Owen loose on you.”

“He’s busy-”

“And you’re in pain. He’s a doctor. He’s our doctor and I’m sure he can fit you in for a quick consultation.”

Jack escorted Ianto to the medical area of Owen’s domain, bellowing for his attention. 

“Owen – here, now!”

Ianto was made to sit down as Owen removed the bandages from his hands. As each layer of gauze was removed, the staining became more evident and less easily denied.

“What the bloody hell have you done?”

“Nothing. I thought you said that stuff healed acid burns – my hands are hurting more now than they were before I let you anywhere near them.”

“Don’t be such a wimp. Stop exaggerating – can’t be that bad.”

“Owen, he’s got a point, there’s blood on the bandages. Maybe the blisters were deeper than –”

“Doctor Harkness – when I need your opinion I’ll let you know.”

Owen pulled over an illuminated magnifier that allowed him to get a better view of the damage sustained to Ianto’s hands.

“Oh shit – this looks nasty.”

“And yet another one-star review for bedside manner.” 

Ianto was never sure whether the totally honest approach was better than the platitudes and euphemisms employed by many people in the medical profession, but he’d personally have welcomed something a little less blunt.

“I’ll compensate for that later,” muttered Jack, winking at Ianto.

“Shut it, Harkness – it’s like his skin’s being eaten away. Digested.”

“Man-eating plants. I told you so!” Ianto felt simultaneously vindicated and horrified.

“Enzymes – of course. It’s not an acid – I bet it’s an enzyme secretion. Hang on, won’t take a minute to check.”

Owen dashed over to his fridge and then the bench to collect a roll of pH indicator paper and a cotton swab. Gently rolling the cotton wool bud over the weeping wound, Owen smeared the fluids over the surface of a Petri dish containing a clear gel. Then he tore off a strip of the indicator paper and dabbed it onto the open sores. Ianto winced.

“Right – it’s not an acid, that is barely on the acidic side of neutral.” Owen held up the indicator paper to show them that is was an orange colour. “I’d expect it to be red if that was acid that caused the burns. Whereas if you look at this,” he held out the Petri dish of gel, which had a spiral pattern etched into the surface that hadn’t been there before. “Proteolytic enzyme. What I can’t understand is how come you couldn’t feel it beforehand, it should have been hurting –”

“I can answer that”, Tosh spoke up from the stairs where she’d been sitting quietly. She’d been worried about Ianto and wanted to see for herself that he was alright. “Neurotoxin. I’ve identified small traces in the swab you took from Ianto that match a compound I purified from the leaves you brought back from the roof top. It’s similar in structure to bungarotoxin – the venom of a poisonous snake, a krait. The leaves and stem section we examined under the microscope showed tiny hairs with glands at the bases – perhaps some secrete the neurotoxin and others the enzyme?”

“In other words, the plant paralyses its victim and then digests the proteins?” Owen frowned as he considered the awful implications. “That would explain why Jack was unable to move. If he fell into a large mass of those plants, he’d have been injected with enough of the toxin to paralyse him, and he’d have asphyxiated. Ianto, mate, I owe you an apology – these are fucking Triffids. You were right all along.”


	42. Chapter 42

“Wh...what?” stammered Ianto, distracted momentarily from the stinging pains in his hands. “Um, apology accepted, Owen. I’ll make a note on the calendar later to commemorate this date – but before I get carried away, what’s actually happening to my hands? What’s the enzyme doing to them? Are they dissolving? Shit, they’re going to fall off aren’t they?” 

“Stop panicking! It’s nasty, but not untreatable.” 

Owen resisted the urge to slap Ianto about the face, which wasn’t too hard with Jack glowering at him. He pulled the magnifier back over and peered down it briefly. 

“Yeah, thought so - there are a few small puncture marks – probably where some sharp spines stuck into you, injecting the enzyme. Hang on – Tosh do we still have any of that enzyme inhibitor? You know, the stuff I threw together to inactivate that digestive slime those space slugs vomited all over the SUV? Was there any left over?”

“If you mean that nasty looking yellow gel, I think I saw it in the fridge earlier.” Tosh crouched down to open the medical specimens’ fridge and pulled out a volumetric flask labelled ‘anti-slug slime’. “Yes – here it is. It looks disgusting.”

Tosh held the flask out at arm’s length and pulled a face that suggested she could smell it even though there was a glass stopper firmly in place. The liquid itself was viscous and yellow, and as it warmed up to room temperature it began to give off a very pale green vapour that was sublimating on the inner walls of the flask, forming a green crust of salts in the narrow neck.

“And they accuse me of having a crap bedside manner.” Owen reached out to take the container from Tosh, secretly pleased that he’d lost his sense of smell. “Don’t listen to her, Ianto – trust me, if I put a thin layer of this over those puncture sites it will work its way into your skin and it should bind to the plant enzyme.”

“That sounds painful.” Ianto looked dubious, wrinkling his nose.

“I’ll numb the area first. Trust me, that’s unless you prefer the option of being slowly hydrolysed by Triffid sap.”

“Dissolved, you mean?”

“Not exactly.”

Owen decided against explaining the difference between being digested and being dissolved, one look at Ianto’s face, which was almost as pale as his own, prompted him to leave aside the explanations. It also occurred to him that as far as Jack was concerned neither condition was acceptable. 

“Look - it’ll be fine. I’ll flush out those blistered areas first and then apply this stuff. By tomorrow it should be healed enough to for a dermal regeneration procedure I’ve been working on.”

“How long that will take to heal?” Jack asked, his arms folded across his chest.

“So far the damage is just partial thickness, painful, but not much worse than second degree burns.”

“That’s easy for you to say, seeing as you can’t actually feel pain anymore,” Ianto grumbled, wishing that Owen would just get on with whatever it was he was going to do.

“At least you’ve got the luxury of being able to heal, so stop moaning-”

“How long?” interrupted Jack, putting a hand on Ianto’s shoulder.

“A day or two tops, this new stuff is fucking good even if I say so myself. Don’t fret, Jack, he’ll be back in action soon enough.”

“He’d better be.”

There were times when Tosh despaired of the posturing between certain Torchwood personnel, who couldn’t help but try to assert their own authority at any given opportunity. She sighed as she set out a tray of equipment for Owen, including several sealed plastic ampoules of saline solution, pipettes and a sterile swab kit. 

“Thanks, Tosh,” Owen smiled, wondering how she’d figured out what he’d need before he asked. However she did it, he was grateful. As he started to break the seal on one of the plastic ampoules of saline, Tosh firmly stayed his hand.

“Owen – before you clean Ianto’s hands, we could do with another swab of the wounds. I’m pretty sure that if I can isolate the enzyme and analyse its primary structure, I’ll be able to identify the range of potential DNA base sequences-”

“- and see which of the different types of plant we’ve collected has a corresponding sequence in its genome?”

“Exactly.” Tosh smiled as Owen nodded his head approvingly. 

“Sounds like a plan – you think the mutations are leading to the plants producing enzymes then?”

“So far we’ve had allergenic pollen and now enzymes capable of digesting human flesh – sorry, Ianto.” Tosh tried to look sympathetic as she heard what could only have been described as a muffled whimper. “I can’t help wondering what else these plants can synthesise.”

Ianto rolled his eyes at Jack and they shared a smile, both men bemused by the barely suppressed scientific curiosity that Tosh delighted in sharing with Owen.

“Jack – if this all goes horribly wrong, and I end up liquidised, don’t try to get me into the morgue, just pour my remains into the Taff.”

Ianto decided it was time to remind them that he was still there and more than a little concerned at his prospects. He did trust Owen as a doctor, but he also knew that a little gallows humour wouldn’t go amiss. 

“Downstream of the Brains brewery mind – I don’t want to end up being pissed up against an alley wall.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong, Ianto. After all, Owen knows exactly what he’s doing, doesn’t he?” Jack favoured Owen with one of his special predatory shark-like expressions, all gleaming teeth and cold eyes. Failure was clearly not an option.

“Yes, Jack. I get it. Now piss off out of the way and let me get on with my job.”

“Fine. I’ve got a call to UNIT I’ve been putting off for a day or three – better get it over and done with.”

“Jack? Are you sure about that?” asked Ianto, sounding nervous at the prospect of Jack calling UNIT unsupervised. “Remember what happened last time? If you wait a few minutes, I’ll call them on the hands free-”

“No worries – I’ll have them eating out of my hand. You worry too much, Ianto.” Jack shrugged and grinned, before turning on his heel and dashing up the stairs before Ianto could say another word to dissuade him.

Ianto looked desperately from Owen to Tosh and then sunk back on the chair, letting his head fall back on the headrest. He mouthed an expletive and shook his head in despair.

“Hey there, tea boy, looks like you’re not the boss anymore.”

“Fuck off, Owen, but give me some more painkillers for later. I’m anticipating a major headache.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack was rooting around in his desk for a piece of paper with a phone number on it that he’d lost and hardly noticed Ianto quietly walk into his office. Ianto usually cleared his throat on the way in if he wanted to make sure Jack was aware of his presence. It was the creaking sound of the springs in the sofa that caught his attention. He looked up to see the young man sitting on the sofa, his head flung back and eyes closed. Jack took advantage of the unguarded moment to take a good look at the bruising under Ianto’s eyes and around his nose, he wasn’t happy to notice it seemed even darker in contrast to his pallid complexion. He figured that lack of sleep wasn’t helping the healing. 

“Why don’t you take a nap on my bed?” suggested Jack quietly. “You look as if you could do with it and there’s nothing we can do until Owen and Tosh identify some way of killing this damn plant.”

“With all due respect Jack, I’m not sure I’ll be able to manage the ladder.” Ianto held up his freshly re-bandaged hands and sighed. “I’ll just grab a few minutes rest here.”

“Damn.” Not for the first time did Jack regret having his sleeping quarters in such an inconvenient place. “Hang on there.”

“Not going anywhere,” stated Ianto, exhaustion making his limbs feel heavy.

Jack quickly clambered down the ladder to grab a pillow and blanket. Returning to Ianto he helped him out of his shoes and jacket, loosened his tie and settled him down on the sofa. As Ianto’s head sunk into the soft pillow, Jack tucked a blanket around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” mumbled Ianto, smiling to himself as Jack’s scent rose up from the pillow, enticing him into an even more relaxed state. 

Jack could tell how shattered Ianto was by the fact that at no point had he objected or tried to resist Jack looking after him. Crouching down next to him and running a hand through his hair, Jack reflected on what Ianto had been through in the last twenty-four hours. He’d been charged with attempted murder, locked up in a cell overnight and then assaulted in his cell. Then, after an all too short respite, he’d selflessly come to Jack’s rescue and got hurt in the process. No wonder he’d virtually lost consciousness the moment his head touched the pillow. Jack cursed himself for not always remembering that Ianto actually needed to eat and sleep from time to time. 

“I was wondering when he’d crash,” Owen observed quietly from the open office door.

“Been a long day for him.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Just came up to say that I’ve called Gwen and Rhys, told them not to bother coming back here tonight, and not to talk to any strange plants. I’ll keep working through the night. Once Tosh and I have set up the next set of trials, I’m going to send her home to grab some sleep.”

“Sounds like a good plan – just make sure she does take a break.”

“Yeah – I will. Keep an eye on him, won’t you? He’s pushing himself again, the only reason he’s asleep now is because I slipped a sedative in with the antibiotic shot I gave him.”

“You drugged the leader of Torchwood?” Jack feigned outrage. “He’ll blame me for that.”

“Not if you don’t tell him about it. It wasn’t much anyway, just enough to make sure he couldn’t fight off the need to fall asleep. He’s a bloody nuisance when he forces himself to stay awake. It also stops him tossing and turning all night long.”

“I don’t think I want to know how come you know so much about his sleeping habits.” Jack frowned, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He was all too aware of Ianto’s insomniac tendencies, almost feeling guilty that he’d often resorted to sex as the one guaranteed method to make sure Ianto slept soundly. “He really should be in a bed… I don’t suppose you can give me a hand getting him down the ladder –”

“Oi! It was just a mild sedative I gave him, not a bloody elephant tranquiliser, which is what it would take to get him down there without waking him up.” Owen protested loudly and then groaned as it dawned on him that Ianto hadn’t stirred at all, which undermined his argument. He scowled at Jack, who just shrugged. “But you’re right, that bloody sofa’s not big enough for him to sleep comfortably. Let’s see if we can shift him, I’ll take his legs, you can take the heavy end. If he wakes up stuck half way down that ladder, you can explain.”

“Yeah – I’ll tell him that you drugged him so we could both have our wicked way with him.” Jack winked lewdly as he carefully removed the blanket from Ianto and lifted him from the sofa. 

“You wouldn’t dare – he’d make you go without for at least a month.” Owen smirked as he took hold of Ianto’s legs, watching as Jack’s face fell in horror.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack stretched out alongside the warm body curled up in the clean sheets next to him. Owen had drawn the line at helping to undress Ianto, but Jack had managed to get his shirt and tie off easily enough and he’d never had any trouble getting Ianto out of his trousers. His first reaction had been to be angry with Owen for sedating Ianto without consent, but at least he could genuinely claim to be as much in the dark about it as Ianto. 

“Jack?”

The lithe body unfolded and stretched out languidly, one gauze-wrapped hand reaching out to feel for Jack’s body.

“You awake?” Jack asked softly, not wanting to speak too loud in case Ianto was just talking in his sleep.

“I could’ve sworn I was dressed when I crashed on the sofa in your office.” Ianto’s forehead creased up as he tried to work out where he was. “Did you drug me?”

“No – that would be Owen and, before you ask, I didn’t know anything about it until you’d passed out on the sofa.”

“We’re not on the sofa are we?” Ianto went to scratch his head and then immediately regretted it as the bandages rubbed against the palm of his hand. “Ouch.”

Jack rolled over on top of Ianto and took hold of his wrists, gently pinning his hands, palm up, either side of his head.

“In my capacity as leader of Torchwood I’m going to order a king-sized bed.” Ianto yawned as he arched his back up off the narrow mattress.

“It wouldn’t fit in here,” chuckled Jack.

“I’ll have some new quarters developed out of the store rooms.”

“Really? Why? What’s wrong with my camp bed?”

“What you see as a challenge, other people tend to see as a bloody inconvenience. The rest of us haven’t slept in a single bed since we were kids.”

“So when are you going to implement this cunning plan?” Jack lightly nipped the warm throat that he had at his mercy.

“Seeing as you’re my PA, I’ll get you to make the arrangements.” Ianto wriggled underneath Jack, frustrated that he couldn’t use his hands, but finding plenty of other ways to tease the man who had pinned him to the bed.

“What’s in it for me?” Jack’s voice grew husky as his body responded to Ianto’s.

“You get to sleep with the boss.” 

“Anything else I get to do with the boss?”

“Well, now you mention it, I’m a bit incapacitated at the moment-” Ianto looked from one hand to the other, both still held in place either side of his head by Jack.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you.” Jack leaned down to capture Ianto’s mouth in a kiss, enjoying having him essentially captive. “I’m sure I can manage that without you having to move a muscle. Now do you think you can keep your hands where I put them, or do I need to get the handcuffs?”


	43. Chapter 43

Jack was pleased with his night’s ‘work’. He’d succeeded in his twin goals of sending Ianto to sleep with a smile on his face and making sure he knew just how much he meant to him. The marks on his wrists from the soft bindings he’d eventually had to resort to, in order to stop Ianto from gripping hold of either the sheets or his shoulders, causing himself pain, had almost completely faded away, which was just as well as he really didn’t want to have to explain those to Owen. However, the marks he’d made just above Ianto’s collar bone would still be there come morning, as would the ones on the insides of his thighs.

Ianto was curled around Jack’s body, one leg hooked over his and an arm draped across his chest. Jack cradled the bandaged hand carefully, keeping it from harm. He had his other arm wrapped protectively around Ianto’s bare shoulders, keeping him warm as he drew lazy circles on the exposed skin with his fingertips. Feeling Ianto’s hips pressing against his thighs was testing Jack’s resolve to let his lover sleep unmolested, but he resisted the temptation to move his hand down, under the sheets following the ridges of Ianto’s spine, down towards the curves of his buttocks. Closing his eyes and focusing on the regular warm breaths caressing his chest, Jack let himself succumb to sleep as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen had been working through the night, scowling as the results of the DNA analysis came through. He’d need to sound out his conclusions with Tosh, but he couldn’t see any other explanation. The sound of the alarm on the other side of the cog wheel door came as a welcome signal to him, there was no way it could be Gwen, not at seven in the morning. Part of him felt bad that Tosh hadn’t got as much sleep as she deserved, yet he couldn’t help feeling relief that he had someone to share the bad news with before breaking it to Jack. If it was as bad as he thought it could be, he needed a second opinion.

“Good morning- or is it?” Tosh was stopped in her tracks by the grim expression on Owen’s face. “What’s the matter? Is it Ianto? Is he alright?”

“As far as I know he’s still in Jack’s bed. If he wasn’t alright, I’m pretty sure Jack would have bellowed for me by now.”

“Thank goodness for that. But there is something wrong, isn’t there? I can tell.”

“You’re getting as creepy as Ianto, you know.” Owen pointed a finger at Tosh in accusation. “This is getting like how Ianto is with Jack - how he reads him like a book. One printed in large font size, with pictures, in colour.”

“Is it the analysis?” Tosh pursued her prey, not put off by diversions.

“In a word, yes.” Owen gestured at the computer screen he’d been gazing at for over half the night. “I need you to look at this – you set the program to hunt down sequences analogous to active sites on enzymes that break down peptide bonds, yes?”   
He waited for Tosh to nod, acknowledging that he’d correctly interpreted the aim of her program.

“Right, well, as expected quite a few turned up. The program then extrapolated to seek out other hydrolytic enzymes and, amongst a whole load that are found in all living cells, terrestrial and alien it seems, it ferreted out these two. I’ve double checked and they’re almost identical, base for base.”

Owen pointed at the screen angrily and waited for Tosh to take in what he’d been staring at in disbelief.

“What type of enzyme?” Tosh pulled over a seat to sit next to Owen.

“Restriction endonuclease enzymes. The bloody thing is equipped to slice and dice its own fucking DNA.”

“Are you suggesting it can genetically modify itself? But that’s not possible – plants don’t have that capacity-”

“That’s the snag – in fact it’s where we’ve been going wrong all along. We’ve been treating it like it’s a plant – something familiar with chlorophyll, leaves and roots. Trouble is, it’s not – it’s an alien life form. It doesn’t have to play by the rules for regular plants.”

“This changes everything. It’s not randomly mutating, it’s transforming its own DNA – although maybe there is still an environmental factor that is triggering the activation of the genes to make restriction enzymes.” Tosh frowned as she attempted to make sense of the new evidence. “Then the enzymes cut the DNA and rearrange it to form the genome we’re seeing in the plants that attacked Jack.”

“Yeah, it’s more like a natural progression, not a chance lucky mutation. Something is stimulating these things to develop into different forms, with a different life cycle, producing chemicals that can paralyse and digest animals. All we need now is for them to start moving around and then we’re really up shit creek without a paddle-”

“Stop-” Tosh’s face fell as something awful occurred to her. “There’s something else, Owen. I didn’t mention it before, because it didn’t seem to make sense. It was late last night, and I thought I must have made a mistake. I thought maybe the sample was contaminated, or I’d misread the profile ... but now -”

“Tosh, you’re babbling.” Owen reached out and placed his hand on Tosh’s shoulder, attempting to ground her. “Spit it out – what did you find?”

“Sequences for polypeptide chains integral to myosin molecules.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Owen wasn’t surprised that Tosh had initially dismissed that finding. He would have done the same. “Bollocks. Ianto’s going to have a field day when he finds out. Muscle proteins – no wonder they’re looking for a protein rich diet.”

“Just as well he dragged Jack’s body away from them.” Tosh shuddered, imagining what would have happened if the plants had assimilated Jack’s amino acids and embarked on the next stage of their accelerated evolutionary development. 

“We’ve got to kill the bastards – every single one of them. We’ve got to do it before they reach the next stage.”

Owen thought back to the innocuous looking purple-leaved plant he’d peeled off the floor of the garage. He’d never thought for one moment that it had what it took to become a motile, carnivorous monster. All he could hope for was that there was a clue in the DNA profile to help them find a weakness, a vulnerability, some way of killing these damn things. 

“Tosh, take the keyboard for me, you’re better at this than me.” Owen wheeled his chair to one side allowing Tosh to sit at the computer. “Pull up the rearranged DNA sequences – all of them. I want to look through them again. I’ve got a hunch.”

It didn’t take long for Tosh to bring up the relevant display. She highlighted all the transformed regions of DNA in a different colour and as they peered over the details, scrolling along the strands, Owen saw the pattern that had eluded him earlier. The segments of transformed DNA had telltale staggered ends from where the ligase enzymes had inserted them into the plant’s original genome, that was to be expected, but as they moved to the next integrated strand the sticky end was complementary to the previous one – meaning that they’d fit together like pieces from a jigsaw if removed and put next to one another. 

“Can you copy out all those inserted sequences and assemble them together?”

“What are you thinking, Owen?”

“Just do it.”

Tosh quickly set the program to select the highlighted sequences and drag them across to a line parallel to the recombinant DNA. As Owen suspected, each piece’s staggered end neatly joined up to the next until there was one complete stretch of genetic material.

“Now I want you to fold it up and join the ends.”

“What – make it into a loop? Oh my god, are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“That I’m a fucking genius? Probably.” Owen grinned, although he wasn’t in the least bit amused by the prospects they were revealing.

“Plasmids, small loops of bacterial DNA – they have bacterial genes incorporated into their genome.” Tosh’s eyes shone with excitement at the discovery they’d made. “That would account for the restriction enzymes as well. Those enzymes used for genetic engineering are all sourced from bacteria that make them as a natural defence against bacteriophages-”

“I’m beginning to think it’s a symbiotic organism, part plant, part bacteria. Like lichens but with bacteria instead of fungi, and -”

“And greater aspirations,” noted Tosh wryly. 

“Yeah, most lichens are happy enough clinging to a lump of rock or a branch.” Owen shook his head with disgust. “Why do we always get the aliens with bloody attitude problems?”

“But, Owen – if the plant’s development is determined by genetic modification by bacteria, it probably relies on the bacterial component for other vital processes.” Tosh was talking fast now, as she began to formulate a way of using the information to their advantage. “If we can find a way to kill the bacteria, we might be able to wipe out the plants.”

“Fuck, that would be a bloody miracle if it worked, but I think you’re onto something. All we’ve got to do is figure out the type of antibiotic the bacteria are susceptible to. There are antibiotic multi discs in the fridge, all we need is a culture of the bacteria. A quick Gram staining even, that would at least let us know if penicillin would do the trick.”

Owen stood up and pulled Tosh to her feet and spun her round.

“You’re a bloody genius, Tosh, have I told you that?”

“Let’s keep our fingers crossed that it’s a nice regular Gram-positive staining species then.” Tosh grinned, delighted at not only having stumbled upon their best chance so far of destroying the plants, but also of having gained Owen’s admiration. 

“We need to get hold of some living bacteria to culture. Think our plants will be ready to harvest?” 

“Only one way to find out. I haven’t checked them since before I left last night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey there – you OK?”

Jack had been roused from his light slumber by the sounds of heavier breathing next to him and the agitated movements of his lover’s limbs. Ianto appeared to be in the midst of a particularly vivid dream and was becoming increasingly restless. 

Switching on the bedside lamp to get a better look, Jack leaned over Ianto to see if he was awake or not. He almost appeared feverish and it didn’t take long for Jack to confirm that he was definitely warmer than he should be. There was nothing covering them but a crumpled sheet and a solitary blanket that barely reached as high as their hips. 

“Ianto? Wake up – come on, wake up for me.”

Jack gathered up Ianto’s hands and held them to his face, pressing the fingers against his lips. Definitely warmer than they had been. He wondered if maybe the enzyme inhibitory treatment had caused a reaction. Either that, or it hadn’t worked and Ianto was getting sick. Jack slipped out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth, soak it with cold water and wring it out. 

By the time he’d returned, Ianto had crawled further under the blanket, clutching it to his chest to compensate for the lost source of heat, and was now shivering. That convinced Jack that all was not well. He pulled the bedclothes away from Ianto and put the chilly cloth against his forehead. The reaction was instant, Ianto’s eyes shot open and flicked from side to side, seeking out the cause of his rude awakening.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Ianto was shocked to find Jack leaning over him looking worried sick.

“How are you feeling?” Jack cupped Ianto’s chin in one hand to keep him focused.

“Why?”

“Stop asking questions and just answer them. How do you feel?”

“My head aches – but that might be because you chose to wake me up with a wet flannel. A kiss is more traditional you know and is more likely to put me in a good mood.”

If Jack hadn’t been so anxious, he might have submitted to Ianto’s oblique invitation. At least he was coherent, no slurring of words and his eyes seemed bright enough, maybe too bright, perhaps a little watery. But at least he had woken up.

“That’s fair enough, but you were tossing and turning – more so than usual. I was worried.” Jack admitted in a quieter voice. “So, a headache – anything else?”

Ianto looked up at Jack and was touched by the undisguised concern in his eyes. He could lie and say it was just a headache brought on by intense sex and dehydration, or he could confess to how he was really feeling. Seeing the look on Jack’s face, he opted for honesty.

“Yeah – feel a bit shivery. Also, I think that if I move my head too fast I might throw up.”

“That does it; I want Owen to take a look at you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“When did you last check the trials in the hot- I mean the herbarium?” Tosh asked as she followed Owen up the stairs towards the room that had once served as the boardroom. 

“It was about four hours ago – they all seemed to be doing well, even those we’d treated. This had better bloody well work because nothing else seems to be touching the bastards.”

Owen pushed open the door to the hot house, which he’d insisted on renaming the ‘herbarium’ after Gwen had had taken great delight in describing how she’d found Jack and Ianto _in flagrante_ amongst the alien foliage. He wouldn’t mind betting they wouldn’t be taking their clothes off anywhere near any alien plants in the foreseeable future. 

“Fucking hell! They’re all dead!” Owen couldn’t believe it.

Every single plantlet that had been nurtured in its own separate sealed unit was shrivelled up and evidently no longer thriving. The lights above them hadn’t failed and the steady hum of the air pump was still going, but at some time since they had last been checked, all the plants they had carefully cultured had died.

“Isn’t this good news?” Tosh asked tentatively. “Doesn’t it mean we must have discovered something that kills them?”

“No such luck – they’re all dead, including the controls. We’ll have to start from scratch, this is a bloody disaster.”


	44. Chapter 44

“Owen! Here, now!” 

Jack’s voice boomed out across the Hub. He’d headed for the autopsy bay first and finding it empty resorted to his standard method for locating members of his team not immediately visible from where he stood.

“Owen? Where the hell are you?”

“I’m busy!” Owen yelled back, shoving open the door to the hot house, almost knocking Tosh out of the way as he did so.

“Whatever you’re doing can wait – get your ass down here now!” 

“It won’t fucking wait- but you can. I’ll be down once I’ve finished up in here.” 

Owen didn’t wait for a reply, he just turned sharply on his heel and disappeared back into the hot house.

“I don’t give a damn what it is – down here, now!” Jack was incensed that Owen had turned his back on him.

“Jack – please just give us a few minutes – it really is important!” Tosh pleaded with Jack from the doorway to the hot house. She anxiously looked from Owen who was desperately trying to salvage what he could of the plants to extract bacterial cultures from and then back down at Jack’s face, reddening with rage.

Gwen couldn’t have picked a worse moment to walk into the central hub area. She’d made the effort, yet again, to bring in breakfast for her colleagues, having persuaded Rhys to make a stack of sausage sandwiches which they’d wrapped in foil and put into an insulated food bag to keep them warm. Gwen had been expecting a different reception to the one she did get. She was surprised to see Jack wearing not much more than a pair of creased trousers and a white tee shirt, but before she could think of a suitably risqué comment to fling in his direction, he growled at her and then recommenced bellowing at Owen.

Glancing up towards the upper balcony Gwen caught sight of Tosh who was standing there looking exasperated, hands on hips. She guessed that Owen was in the hot house with the plants, but other than that she couldn’t work out what was going on. Owen’s reappearance did nothing to clarify matters, when he re-emerged from the glass walled room, clutching a handful of sealed sample bags. 

“I need to deal with this first, then I’ll see you.” Owen stabbed a finger in Jack’s directon as he glared at him.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” 

“Hey there – calm down! Both of you.” Gwen shouted out, having heard more than enough. “The testosterone’s so bloody thick in here you could cut it with a plastic spoon.”

“Gwen - keep out of this!” warned Jack.

At this point the shouting had managed to wake the sleeping pteranodon who left her nest, screeching loudly. Gwen turned around to apologise to Rhys, only to be caught short by the look on his face - he was mesmerised by the sight of the prehistoric beast soaring across the upper regions of the underground cavern.

“Listen up the pair of you – shut up now and get your arses over here.” Gwen’s voice rung out loud and clear and as everyone’s eyes were drawn to her, they didn’t shift, not as she took her gun and pointed it from one of them to the other. “We’ve got enemies enough, without fighting amongst ourselves. Come here and then you can talk to each other without having to bloody scream. Do not make me take action that either of you will regret. I know a bullet isn’t going to kill either of you – but I can make sure it inconveniences you.”

“Bloody hell, Rhys, is this how she deals with arguments at home?” Owen had noticed Gwen’s husband standing behind her, looking decidedly awkward.

“You don’t want to know, mate. But she did have training with the police on how to tackle domestics.”

Owen noted the weary look in Rhys’ eyes, even though Gwen missed it. He’d enjoyed his fling with Gwen, but there was no way he’d ever want to be married to her. She’d have made his life hell. He couldn’t help but think that Rhys must have the patience of a saint.

Tosh followed Owen down the stairs from the hot house, shaking her head in despair. She could tell that any ceasefire between Jack and Owen was very temporary and the only reason they’d clammed up when they had was because of their feelings towards Gwen, which she’d never been able to fathom, but meant that they hated being shown up in front of her. 

“Come on, Owen, I’ll give you a hand with those.” Tosh reached out to take the samples from Owen, afraid they might fall victim to any further confrontation between the two men.

“Morning, Tosh, sweetheart, how’s it going?” Gwen winced as she saw how Tosh was looking at her. She’d not even realised that her colleague was there, she’d been solely focused on the two men.

“Not good, Gwen. Hello Rhys.” Tosh bit her tongue for fear of saying something she’d regret and turned to greet Rhys, who was looking more and more uncomfortable with the situation. 

“Morning, lovely, good to see you again.” Rhys liked Tosh, to begin with he’d thought she was standoffish, but he worked out that she was just shy, and actually very nice, for someone who worked for Torchwood.

As predicted, the peace didn’t last for long and as soon as Owen was on the same level as Jack, he found the other man in his face straightaway.

“I said I needed you – when I say that, you jump!” Jack snarled at Owen and shoved him forcefully in the chest.

Gwen rapidly stepped between the two men and raised her hand up to Jack who was bristling with rage. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, Harkness? Why do you go out of your way to piss me off” Owen was fuming.

“What’s going on, Jack?” Gwen demanded.

“Ianto’s sick!” Jack spat out as if that should be explanation enough for his fury. 

“He’s got a headache – which isn’t bloody surprising, considering the bloody row you lot are making.”

A deep voice got everyone’s attention. Ianto slowly sauntered out onto the walkway outside Jack’s office, his unbuttoned shirt revealing his bare chest. If it was Ianto’s loudly voiced complaint that got the men’s attention it was his appearance that held that of Tosh and Gwen. In his haste to find out what was going on he’d barely been able to pull on his trousers with his bandaged hands, so they weren’t completely fastened and were precariously clinging to his hips exposing a tantalising glimpse of the flesh below his waist. It was commonplace to see Jack half dressed, or even naked on occasion, but sights of Ianto in any state of undress were exceedingly rare. The slight shadow of stubble on his chin only added to his dishevelled appearance. 

“And you’ve upset my pteranodon.” 

“Your pteranodon?” Jack retorted, his eyebrows raised.

“I found her and when was the last time anyone else fed her or cleaned up her mess?”

“Jack said you’re sick – are you?” Owen asked bluntly, even though he could detect that something was amiss from the way Ianto was leaning heavily on the railing.

“Maybe.” Ianto shrugged.

“Give us a few minutes to sort these bastard plants out and I’ll see to those bandages and give you a check up, OK?”

“That’s fine by me-”

“Can’t they wait?” interjected Jack, keenly watching the way Ianto was gingerly moving down the metal stairs to join them.

“No, Jack, I’ve got to get them back to the lab. Now-”

“Owen’s right – we have to set up some cultures-” Tosh tried to explain, only to be interrupted by Jack.

“Why?”

“I’ll explain later – trust me, Jack, this is fucking important.” Owen made one last attempt to impress upon Jack that he was serious.

“So is Ianto.”

The object of his concern took hold of Jack’s arm and squeezed it as much as he could with the bandages wrapped around the palm of his hand. Ianto looked Jack in the eye and silently assured him that he was in no immediate danger.

“Let me,” Ianto said quietly to Jack, before turning around to look at the assembled team. “Owen, why don’t you and Tosh go do whatever it is you have to with that bag of leaves?” 

“Right, come on, Tosh.”

Owen led the way to his lab bench, and Tosh followed, but not before bestowing a grateful smile at Ianto.

“Is that food you two have got there?” Ianto directed his next question at Gwen and Rhys, pointing at the insulated bag on the floor.

“Yes, sausage butties,” stated Rhys proudly.

“Great. Why don’t you and Gwen set it out in the boardroom – there’s a microwave in there you can use if you need to heat anything up and there’s a filter coffee maker on the sideboard. Jar of ground coffee in the cupboard underneath.”

“Onto it.” Rhys grinned, grateful for being given something to do.

As Rhys headed off in the direction of the boardroom, as directed by Ianto, he half expected Gwen to follow him, but she didn’t. Turning around to see what was going on to delay her, he saw Jack leaning close whispering something to her. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was probably some Torchwood secret. But Gwen heard every word hissed into her ear and was embarrassed to have been caught staring.

“Gwen? You’ve got a man of your own, here in my base, so keep your wandering eyes off mine.”

As soon as Gwen had left the area, Ianto turned to face Jack, looking as if he wanted to apologise.

“You’re getting all bossy on me again,” Jack raised his chin as he made his observation.

“Someone has to –”

Ianto looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone before urgently whispering to Jack:

“Can you do my zip up for me? It’s like I’m wearing bloody mittens.”

“My pleasure.” Jack reached down to grip hold of the zipper, his eyes widening as he felt bare flesh behind the cold metal. “Ianto Jones … are you going commando?”

“Bandages?” Ianto held out his hands to make the point. “I bet you’re not wearing any underwear either.”

“So why didn’t you stay put in bed, like I told you and wait for me to bring Owen to you?”

“Apart from the fact that you were screaming at each other? I know Owen’s sense of smell isn’t what it used to be, but that room has no air flow – it reeks of sex, the sheets are stained and there are dirty clothes all over the floor. That’s not how I want to be seen by any doctor, let alone Owen.”

Jack shook his head in dismay but was secretly relieved. If Ianto was capable of being mortified at the thought of Owen seeing the state of their sleeping quarters, then he couldn’t be too sick.

“So, just how bad are you feeling?”

“Same as before.” Ianto sighed. “Can we sit down?”

Jack led Ianto to the sofa under the dragon mural and sat him down carefully. He then wrapped his arms around him, hugging him gently, letting the younger man rest his head on his shoulder. 

“Jack – if you promise to stop yelling, I’ll let you be boss again.”

“I kinda like you on top though, love the way you take charge.” Jack smiled into Ianto’s hair.

“I meant as leader of Torchwood.” Ianto pushed away slightly so he could glare at Jack.

“So did I.” Jack grinned boyishly. 

“Right then, well we’d better get a witness I s’pose, do this properly.”

“Are you ready to go break the news to the kids then?” Jack asked quietly.

“Give it a few minutes. Let Owen finish what he has to do, then I’ll get him to see what’s wrong with me.” 

Jack tightened his hold on Ianto, not failing to note that he could feel the heat from his bare skin through the fabric of his own tee shirt.


	45. Chapter 45

Owen dumped a medical kit on the coffee table, perched on it opposite Ianto and indicated for Jack to leave. But, as expected, he refused to budge.

“Bugger off, Jack. I need to ask him questions and get the truth, not some watered-down version that he thinks will stop you from panicking.”

“Yeah, and by the same token I need to hear your diagnosis first-hand.” Jack sat back on the sofa making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Don’t either of you trust me to be honest?” demanded Ianto indignantly. 

“You have to admit it, tea-boss, no one touches you when it comes to keeping secrets …sorry, but it’s true.”

“Really? What about Jack?” Ianto was outraged that Owen considered him more secretive than the man they knew virtually nothing about. 

“Yeah, well, the thing is we’ve always known he keeps stuff from us, but with you nobody had a bloody clue until we were all in mortal peril.”

“That’s out of order!” snapped Ianto, surging up from his seat.

Jack quickly grabbed hold of Ianto and pulled him back down, sensing that he was about to lunge for Owen, regardless of the additional damage he’d do to his hands. 

“Whoa there! Owen, shut up now before I let him hit you and Ianto, try to calm down. If he makes any more nasty remarks, I’ll punch him for you. Agreed?” Jack waited for both men to nod their heads before he continued. “Ianto – that agreement we made, is it still on?”

“Are you going to stop shouting?” asked Ianto, truculently. 

“I’ll try harder, I promise.”

Ianto sighed and glaring at Owen, he revoked his leadership position. Despite having enjoyed the opportunity to issue commands, he accepted it had just been a ploy to get him released from police custody. He didn’t envy Jack the decisions that the role demanded. 

“OK. Owen, in my capacity as your superior, I call on you to bear witness to the fact that I hereby hand over leadership of Torchwood Cardiff to Captain Jack Harkness.”

“What?” Owen was only partly surprised, he’d not expected it to last as long as it had.

“You heard.” Jack slid an arm around Ianto’s waist, not aware of just how possessive he was being. “Now I’m boss again, I’m telling you to keep any non-medical opinions to yourself, examine Ianto and do whatever it takes to make him better again, got it?”

“I get the message. So, what’s up?”

“He’s feverish-”

“He would also really like the use of his hands back.” Ianto rolled his eyes, not wanting to elaborate on the fact that having to get Jack to help him take a piss was far more awkward than he could have imagined. “It would be nice to be able to do up my own buttons and-”

“Hang on,” interrupted Owen, ignoring Ianto and looking at Jack. “Did you just say he’s running a fever?” 

Owen snapped to attention, he’d initially believed that Jack had just wanted him to change the bandages, freeing up Ianto’s hands for all manner of tasks, both work-orientated and more personal. However, Ianto had then confirmed that he did have a headache – but he’d not said anything about a fever.

“Yes, that’s what I said – he woke up hotter than he was when he went to sleep and not in a good way.”

“Why didn’t you fucking say so earlier, you bloody moron!” Owen swore loudly, wishing someone would have the sense to give him vital information and not just bitch at him for attention. By someone of course he meant Jack. However, it suddenly dawned on Owen that Jack had told him that Ianto was sick. 

“You wouldn’t wait to hear, you just stormed off. I can hardly tell you stuff if you don’t stop to listen!”

“Please – stop shouting,” moaned Ianto, his eyes shut tight and his head resting on the back of the scruffy sofa. “My head really is killing me.” 

Owen glowered at Jack – they’d already wasted precious time if his suspicions were correct. 

“Right, let’s get these bandages off first and see how well your hands are healing. With any luck I should be able to put some dermagel on the skin now.” 

As Owen focused on peeling off the layers of dressings he looked up at Jack’s worried face. 

“Jack, if you’re insisting on hovering like a bloody vulture, make yourself useful – there’s a digital thermometer in my bag, check his temperature.”

Jack dutifully positioned the probe in Ianto’s ear canal and waited for the temperature reading to stabilise. As the figures rose higher and higher, so did his state of anxiety. He bit his lip as he saw the final reading was 38.9ºC. Not far off a high fever, certainly much higher than it should have been. 

“Told you so,” grumbled Jack as he let the others see the final reading.

For a change, Jack wasn’t ecstatic about being right. He blamed himself – Ianto had been doing fine until he’d to come to his rescue on that damn roof top. 

“Well done, Dr Harkness, your diagnosis is right – feverish.” Owen shook his head, he was surprised that Ianto was out of bed at all. “Did you say you’d got a headache as well?”

“Yep. And it’s feeding off the aggression between the two of you – so pack it in, now.”

“Any other symptoms?” Owen kept his eyes on the dressings he was removing, but he listened carefully for any hint that Ianto was keeping facts from him.

“Nausea. Especially if I move my head too fast … and a bit dizzy.”

“Any stiffness in your neck?” asked Owen, sounding genuinely concerned. “Do you feel any more irritable than normal, if that’s possible?” 

Owen really hoped the infection had not entered the younger man’s central nervous system, he no longer had the manual dexterity needed for taking cerebrospinal fluid via a spinal tap.

“Not really – and I think I’ve got every right to feel pissed off, don’t you?”

As Owen removed the last of the bandages away from Ianto’s left hand he saw the probable cause of the medium grade fever. Although most of the blistered sores were showing good signs of recovery, there was one that looked inflamed still – the surrounding skin bright red, with a definite indication of the build up of pus beneath the healed skin. Only a blood test would confirm his fears, but he knew that the antibiotic shot he’d given Ianto should have taken care of any common opportunistic bacteria ready to take advantage of an open wound. That meant that there was a very strong probability that the bacterial strains, resistant to the shot and currently on the rampage in Ianto’s bloodstream, were from the alien plant.

“Bollocks.”

“I thought you’d given him antibiotics?” Jack frowned as he saw evidence for a nasty infection. He’d seen enough infected wounds in his time to recognise the obvious symptoms. He also knew that septicaemia was the next stage if the infection defied treatment.

“I had. This is … oh shit… I think this is from the plants.”

“What – they’ve brought their own diseases with them?” Ianto asked, confused. He grimaced as he turned his head to look at Jack. “Next time I find you dead in the fronds of some alien plant I’m leaving you there.”

Ianto glared at Jack, but they both knew he didn’t mean it. Despite the fact that Jack would bounce back good as new again and again, Ianto could never abandon him. Both of them were well aware that one day that loyalty could prove fatal for Ianto. It reminded Jack of how he’d been prepared to sacrifice everything for the Doctor and that scared him senseless.

“Well – is that what’s happened? We’ve got plants coming through the rift riddled with some sort of plant plague and spreading it to humans?” Ianto asked awkwardly, noting the fact that Jack was staring at him with sadness in his eyes and that Owen was looking distinctly sheepish as he cleaned and treated the sores on his hands.

“If only it was that simple. Unfortunately, no – the bacteria live inside the plant, they’re part of it.” Owen muttered as he pulled a syringe and sterile glass tube from his kit. “I’ll need a blood sample, Ianto. Then I’ll give you some tetracycline – it works in a different way to penicillin so hopefully it will work. Paracetamol should take the edge off the fever and headaches as well.”

“What’s going on with the plants, Owen?” Ianto asked, looking over in the direction of the autopsy bay where Tosh was busy spraying down the bench tops and wiping them clean. “What else have you and Tosh found out?” 

Jack smiled to himself as he picked up on the fact that Ianto was keen not to be the centre of attention for any longer than necessary. He was also correctly drawing their focus back to the urgent need to find a solution to the problem posed by the plants.

“If you two can get your arses over to the boardroom, we’ll explain it to all of you at the same time. It gets technical, so the fewer times we let Tosh loose on the detailed analysis the better.”


	46. Chapter 46

“There you are – I wondered what was keeping you.” 

Gwen smiled as she noted that Ianto’s trousers were now safely secured about his waist and that his shirt was buttoned, although not all the way, which meant that she could just see the edge of a red bruise on his throat. Figuring out what it really was, made Gwen feel awkward for noticing, especially when Ianto’s eyes met hers. His hands were no longer in such thick bandages, his right hand was free of dressings and the left just had a slim gauze pad pressed to the palm and held in place with tape. 

“Sausage butty?” offered Rhys enthusiastically. He held out a plate of sandwiches, grease oozing from between the slices of bread from where the sausages had been reheated. “Ketchup or brown sauce?” 

Ianto kept his lips pursed together and did his best to breathe through his mouth so he didn’t have to smell the aroma of the food. It wasn’t that he didn’t like a cholesterol packed breakfast sandwich, it was just that his stomach was threatening to revolt. 

Jack spotted Ianto growing paler and his complexion taking on a vaguely green hue, so he intercepted the plate and whisked it away. He was hungry and, despite his misgivings about Rhys coming in with Gwen, he was grateful for the thoughtful gesture.

“Great stuff, Rhys. I bet you make the perfect wife.” Jack winked at Rhys as he sunk his teeth into the thick sandwich. “Ianto – any chance of sorting out the coffee?”

Although Jack could see that Rhys had already made the coffee, he wanted to give Ianto something to do that would spare him from facing food.

“Everyone got something to eat?” Jack looked around the table, glad to note that Tosh had finished her sandwich and was wiping her lips and fingers on a napkin. 

“Everyone except Ianto,” mentioned Gwen, scrutinising Ianto carefully as she reached out to take a mug of coffee from him. 

“Later.” Ianto spoke quietly, yet authoritatively. He knew that Gwen was concerned, but he didn’t need her mothering, and he really couldn’t face anything to eat. He resolved to put a few spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee, to keep him going for the time being. 

“OK, sweetheart, but don’t you go without and don’t let that greedy bastard eat your share.”

Jack tried and failed to look as if Gwen’s comment was undeserved. He finished off the crusts of his sandwich and then wiping his hands on his trousers he took the seat at the top of the table and gestured for everyone to be quiet. Ianto took a seat to the left of Jack, next to Tosh. On the opposite side of the table, Owen sat across from Ianto so he could keep an eye on him and Gwen sat at the end, with Rhys hovering behind her, not feeling comfortable about taking a seat. 

“Right, kids. First of all, an update on the line of command – Ianto has handed control of Torchwood back to me again, which I am sure will come as a disappointment to many of you. Now, Owen – are you ready to tell us all what the hell crawled up your ass this morning?”

“Don’t tempt me to ask you the same, Jack.” Owen sniped, staring from Jack to Ianto and back again. Out of the corner of his eye he noted that, unencumbered by bulky bandages, Ianto had regained the ability to make precise hand gestures.

“Come on, Owen, what the hell’s going on?” Jack wasn’t in the mood to be sidelined. “The longer you delay the more I get to thinking it’s not good news.”

“It’s not – the alien plants we were growing are all dead.” Owen stated.

“Dead? But isn’t that brilliant news?” asked Gwen, a wide mouthed smile beginning to spread across her face.

“In a word, no – because even the ones we weren’t trying to kill are dead.” Tosh explained, looking up from her notes. “And as it turns out we need some living specimens.”

“I don’t get it.” Gwen frowned, not understanding Owen’s dour expression.

“She’s got a point.” Jack leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “I thought that the whole reason for growing them was to find a way to kill them.”

“You don’t know what it is that killed the plants. That’s the problem, isn’t it?” speculated Ianto.

“That’s part of it,” agreed Owen. “But we’d just discovered that they aren’t really plants, not like any plants we’ve ever seen before that is.”

“What?”

“They are a symbiotic species, part plant and part bacteria.” Tosh explained. 

“That’s the good news by the way,” added Owen. “Although we can’t exactly torch or napalm the whole of Cardiff, never mind douse it with weedkiller, we should be able to carry out aerial spraying with antibacterial chemicals.”

“That’s great – hey, Ianto, you’ll need to chase up that company again. I don’t care if it’s a helicopter or a plane, but we need one on standby asap.” Jack grinned, eager to get into the air again and more than happy to conduct a bombing mission to destroy the plants that were threatening the population of his adopted home.

Ianto noted the gleam in Jack’s eyes and made a mental note to get on the phone to the agricultural aircraft hire firm once the meeting was over. He’d also need to get back in touch with Kathy Swanson to organise the logistics of spraying the whole city from the air. However, he was tempted to leave that little problem to Jack. 

“The trouble is we can’t just spray the city indiscriminately with bactericidal chemicals.” Tosh added quietly, hating to put a downer on the wave of optimism that was in danger of pulling the rest of the team away from the shores of reality. “We have to know the type of bacteria we’re dealing with and how best to destroy them. If we’re careful with our choice of antibiotic or whatever it is that it takes to kill the microbial symbiont, we should be able to minimise any environmental impact.”

“Hang on – did you just say these things are some type of mutant half plant, half germ?” Rhys blurted out, having just assimilated the information. He couldn’t quite believe that the others had taken that in their stride and moved on without questioning the whole monster plant bit. He looked at Gwen, hoping she’d tell him he’d got it all wrong and that there was nothing to worry about.

“No, love, it’s not that simple-” Gwen reached back to take hold of Rhys’ hand and squeezed it gently.

“No, it’s not, it’s actually a lot worse than that.” Owen interrupted. “Analysis of their DNA suggests they’re getting ready to grow muscles as well. We need to do something before these bastards come off the rooftops and start prowling the streets looking for meat to feed on.”

“Don’t you go taking the piss, it’s not funny!” Gwen glared at Owen. She sometimes forgot that the whole concept of alien life forms was something new for Rhys to cope with and was angry at Owen for apparently being quite cruel to her husband. 

“Owen – tell me you’re kidding.” Jack’s voice cut across Gwen’s, demanding an answer.

“Sorry, Jack – it’s a distinct possibility. The bloody things are altering their own DNA all the time, we think the bacterial symbiont provides it with the enzymes to do that – Tosh has identified genes for muscle proteins and we already know that they can digest flesh.”

“I can verify that.” Ianto held out his hands palm upwards to prove the point.

“Bloody hell.” Rhys slouched back against the wall next to the sideboard. “You’ve got to kill these things.”

“Exactly. The bacteria are the key – if we can work out how to destroy them, we’re onto a winner. The trouble is we need to culture the bacteria and now all the bloody plants have died and I haven’t a bloody clue why.”

“It must have been something you gave them.” Gwen shrugged her shoulders not seeing any other valid explanation.

“Not necessarily.” Rhys spoke up from where he was hanging around by the microwave.

“What are you on about?” Gwen twisted her head around to look over at Rhys, annoyed that he’d contradicted her in public.

“It’s like my auntie Glad’s azalea – she gave a cutting to my mam and it died, nothing wrong with it – but the soil was all wrong. Maybe there’s something you’ve not been giving them.” 

“Well? Could he be right?” Jack posed the question at Tosh and Owen, who looked askance at the idea that Gwen’s husband had stumbled onto something they’d missed.

Tosh selected an image from her files and projected it onto the screen at the end of the room. 

“They were all in individual biospheres, growing in nutrient medium, with a sealed, filtered air supply.” 

“Why was the air filtered?” Rhys asked out of curiosity.

“To keep toxins out of the air. Seemed a good idea at the time.” Owen tried and failed to keep sarcasm from his voice. 

“So you made sure the air they had was completely clean, scrubbed of all impurities?” Ianto pointed at the image floating above Jack’s head.

“Yep.”

“But the places we found them, or evidence of their activity, were in the centre of town. Albany Road, the train station – the air in those locations would’ve been anything but clean.”

“Shit – you’re right. There would’ve been all sorts of pollutants in the air –”

“Nitrous oxides, hydrocarbons, sulphur di-”

“Getting the picture, Tosh.” Jack held his hand up to prevent Tosh from completing an inventory of all the additional gases present in the city’s atmosphere. “So, our mutant plants like dirty air, is that what we’re saying?”

“Sounds feasible and would explain why they’re flourishing where they are and dying when we try to grow them.” Owen glanced across at Tosh and could see that she was in agreement. “If all else fails, we just ban all vehicles and industry from the city and the surrounding area and the plants should die, eventually, once they run out of pollutant chemicals accumulated in every nook and cranny and on every roof top.”

“Do I look like the kinda guy who prefers a waiting game over bombing the bastards to pieces from the air?” Jack posed the rhetorical question. No one bothered challenging him on it, not even Gwen.

“Right then, so everyone needs to keep their fingers crossed that we can get some cultures of the bacteria from either the dead plants or Ianto’s blood.”

“Ianto’s blood?” Tosh spun round and stared at Ianto, horrified.

“Yeah – he’s got a fever, one of those sores on his hands got infected and the penicillin shot I gave him was useless. There’s a good chance he’s been incubating our bacteria overnight.”

“Bloody hell, mate, no wonder you’ve got no appetite.” Rhys was upset on behalf of the young Welshman, although he was also relieved that he’d not rejected the sausage butties for any other reason than inability to face food. 

“So, we can’t do anything until we get some bacteria isolated and figure out the best way to kill them, is that what you’re telling me, Owen?

“That’s the picture, Jack. But like you said before, we need to get a crop spraying plane on standby at Cardiff Airport and someone needs to talk to the police – that twenty-four-hour curfew is going to be over before we find a solution.”

“Damn, that’s going to be tricky,” Jack winced, momentarily regretting having persuaded Ianto to give back control when he had. 

“Right, Tosh and Owen, I expect you’ve got plenty to do – keep me informed of anything you find out.” Jack flicked a glance in Ianto’s direction, ensuring that Owen knew exactly what he meant. “Gwen, you need to get out to the airport to liaise there, take the latest satellite print outs. Take Rhys with you. We need to know where to begin spraying before these bastards set seed again. Ianto, you’re with me, my office.”

Ianto gave Jack a quizzical look but followed obediently, not wanting to create a scene in front of the others.

“Jack?” Ianto hesitated when he reached the doorway to the office, watching Jack move purposefully to his desk. “Wouldn’t it be easier if I just used my own workstation?”

“No. As soon as you’ve called the plane hire people and informed Gwen of the contact details, then you’re going to lie down on that sofa and take it easy.” Jack took Ianto into his arms and gave him a gentle hug. “You’re exhausted and I need you at your best once we get the go ahead to source the chemical that’s going to kill these damn monsters.”

“Is that an order?”

“Does it have to be? Let the meds have a chance to make you feel better, please?”

Jack kissed Ianto on the forehead, pleased that it was no warmer than it had been earlier, although worried that it was no cooler.

“When did this get so out of control?” wondered Ianto, out loud.

“I don’t know, but it looks like we’ve got one last chance of wiping these plants out and we’ve gotta make it count.”


	47. Chapter 47

A clutch of grey and white feathers was swept up in a breeze and lifted free from the flat roof of the St David’s Shopping Centre, taking to the air in a way the bird they’d come from never would again. The dead pigeon had been reduced to bare bones, stripped of every single scrap of flesh. A tangle of slender purple tendrils appeared to be embracing the sad skeleton, even as the nutrients absorbed became assimilated by the plant itself. The sinuous stems then did something extraordinary. They twitched. The first contractions were so slight as to be almost indistinguishable from the passive movements as the wind caught the delicate fronds. Then they flexed with more force as a second wave of contractions crushed the brittle bones, rendering the fragile framework into nothing more than a small heap of broken fragments. 

The plant joined others across the city that appeared to be awakening, testing their muscles as they stretched and arched their stems. When the first rays of dawn had filtered through dark clouds that morning, they had shone on a lifeform never before seen on Earth, unique in its many attributes. It was able to synthesise its own food using the light from the sun and hydrocarbons in the polluted atmosphere. Within its tissues a myriad of bacteria co-existed, feeding off the surplus nutrients produced by the plant-like cells, whilst secreting enzymes capable of rearranging the very genetic make up of those cells. As a consequence of its internal genetic modification, it could digest any animal protein it came upon, scavenging carrion to supplement its requirements for amino acids to build its primitive muscles. The next stage had been reached and the strands of contractile fibres within its stems and roots were almost strong enough to enable it to descend from the rooftops to street level, receptor cells at the ends of the tendrils having detected higher concentrations of the scent of animal tissues, ripe for devouring. 

It was no more sentient than it had been as a vulnerable seedling, but as a species it was advanced enough to respond to changes and opportunities in any environment, adapting rapidly to take advantage of whatever the dominant organism happened to be and in Cardiff that was humankind, and they were slowly waking to a new dawn, oblivious to the possible fate that awaited them. Their only hope for salvation lay in the work of a small team of people, deep underground in the redeveloped Cardiff Bay area. ‘Bloody Torchwood’ indeed, unappreciated and reviled much of the time, tolerated by the emergency services, yet if it was not for the Cardiff branch of the Institute established by Queen Victoria, the city would no longer be standing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto put the receiver back in its cradle and placed the phone tidily on Jack’s desk. But before he could share the outcomes of his conversations, he was presented with a folded document inside a plastic wallet. Jack was sitting forward in his chair looking more than a little disgruntled.

“Ianto – there’s a mistake on that.” 

“Can’t see anything wrong with it.” 

Ianto shook his head as he examined the forged details. 

“I’ll have you know that private pilot’s licence represents some of my finest work, which is pretty good considering the state my hands were in yesterday.”

“Here, date of birth – see, it says 1965!” Jack snatched the licence back from Ianto and pointed at the birth date he found so offensive.

“An excellent vintage – lots of good things came out of that year. I could list them, but I imagine you saw most of them firsthand -”

“That would make me well into my forties!”

“And?” Ianto looked down on Jack from his vantage point perching on the edge of the desk. “Seriously, Jack, it’s got to be realistic.” 

“But-”

“Get over it. Anyway, the plane’s on its way to Cardiff and the company are sending out a ground crew to meet us, ready to prime the tanks with whatever Owen and Tosh decide will work best. Gwen’s waiting for them and has all the relevant contact numbers.”

“Good – that means there’s nothing else you can do for now, other than rest.” Jack patted Ianto’s knee. “You’re looking flushed and not from anything I’ve done, which isn’t good.”

“What about Swanson?” 

Ianto looked from Jack to the phone, feeling that despite the nagging headache that refused to go away completely, it might be safer if he was to speak to the detective inspector instead of Jack, who never failed to wind the poor woman up.

“I’ll deal with that call. I can be diplomatic when I need to be – trust me. The only tough decision you have to make is whether you’re going to have a rest up here on the sofa or in my bed.”

Ianto glanced at the lumpy sofa and then down to the side of the desk where the entrance to Jack’s bedroom was located. Then he recalled the state it had been in when he’d hastily got dressed earlier and, knowing he’d not be able to rest there without remaking the bed with fresh sheets, he sighed as he opted for the sofa. It may not be as comfortable, but he could just put his feet up and rest his eyes for a while.

“Maybe I’ll just hang around up here, in case you need something – a file, coffee, whatever.”

“Fair enough, but if you don’t lie down and take it easy, I’ll cuff you to the nearest convenient horizontal surface.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Would so – and you know it.” Jack pointed a finger at the sofa and raised his eyebrows in a silent challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Anything?” Owen wandered over to stand at Tosh’s shoulder as she peered down a microscope, adjusting the fine focus to get a better view of the slide she’d prepared.

“Too early to tell anything from the cultures. But these slides show that the bacteria in Ianto’s blood are almost definitely the same as those from the plant – spirilliforms, tight alpha helices, all Gram negative. Clumping together where they’ve been dividing. Here have a look.”

Tosh pointed at the screen of the computer, on which she had displayed images from slides of the dead bacteria found in the plant tissue alongside a slide with a drop of Ianto’s blood. Both showed distinctive coiled shapes, reddish in colour from the Gram staining that proved that not only were they related, but also that they were resistant to penicillin.

“I was hoping I’d be wrong – bollocks. As soon as possible I want a culture of those incubating with a mast ring – I need to know if the tetracycline I gave Ianto is going to work and make sure that there isn’t anything else that might be more effective.”

“I’ve already set one up – took a gamble, centrifuged some of the blood you took and made a plate up with some of the plasma. It’s sitting in the incubator at 37oC with a multi disk.”

“Thanks, Tosh. The sooner we identify the best antibiotic for Ianto the better.”

“What showed up from the blood tests you ran?” Tosh asked tentatively. 

“Mostly what I’d expect– cytokine high, C reactive protein as well – inflammation after all. Neutrophil numbers are also very high – which could indicate that his immune system is fighting the infection. Either that or it’s being overwhelmed. But if his white blood cells are half as stubborn as Ianto is, I bet they’re slugging it out with the alien bacteria as we speak.”

“Is he resting now?” Tosh looked up towards Jack’s office.

“Jack said he’d make sure he does – which means he’ll tie him down if he has to, not something I really want to witness first hand.”

“He may as well rest – Jack can deal with the police and Gwen will tackle the officials at the airport.” Tosh pushed her hair out of her face impatiently and sat back on her lab stool, surveying the clutter that had accumulated across the bench top. She was frustrated that despite all they had discovered they were still no nearer a definitive answer. “The pressure’s all on us now to find the right antibiotic, to kill the plants and to cure Ianto, and time’s against us. What if we fail, Owen? I’m scared we’re going to let everyone down.”

“I’ve never known you be such a pessimist, Tosh.” Owen was concerned, if anyone in the team could find a positive angle, or a solution, it was Tosh. If she was beginning to have doubts, then they were screwed. “But, you’re right, there just isn’t enough time to pinpoint the best antibiotic and even if we knew what it was, the practicalities of getting it in sufficient bulk to spray all over the city-”

“I know – and I’ve been thinking, the knock-on effects of exposing an entire population, simultaneously to one specific antibiotic will provide ideal conditions for the evolution of antibiotic resistant pathogens. We could end up creating an even worse situation. MRSA could seem like nothing worse than a bad cold.”

“Fuck.” Owen cursed himself, he’d not enough considered that problem. “So much for that idea.”

Owen watched on as Tosh grabbed hold of the bottle of antibacterial spray and began to disinfect the bench top where she’d been working, shifting pieces of glassware into a tray for sterilising later.

“Hang on – why bother with an antibiotic? It’s not like we’ve got to treat anyone for an infection, apart from Ianto of course. What about a general antibacterial agent – a disinfectant?”

“What are you thinking, Owen?” Tosh peeled the latex gloves off her hands slowly, not taking her eyes off the medic as he took hold of the bottle of pink Virkon solution she’d been using.

“OK – this stuff – it’s biodegradable and naturally decomposes into inorganic salts, so it won’t hang around in the environment. Also, it’s not toxic to anything other than bacteria and viruses – this stuff could be the answer.”

“- and it’s readily available in bulk!” Tosh grinned. 

“Right – and what’s more we’ve got access to a local haulage company. Get onto Gwen, tell her we’ve got a job for Rhys. If this works, Jack’s gonna love spraying the town pink!”


	48. Chapter 48

“What do you mean ‘they’re missing’? I didn’t know they’d been released. No, he didn’t tell me… no, I don’t know where they are, I told you I didn’t know they weren’t still locked up, like they should be! … They what?! You’ve gotta be kidding me! … What the hell is going on, Kathy? … Don’t worry about him, he’s my problem, but in the meantime if either of those bastards comes any where near him, or any of my team…yes, dammit, that was a threat! Look, Kathy, can we just work together on this for now – once we’ve dealt with the immediate danger I’ll be more than happy to come in and discuss these issues. But right now … OK, I get it, not all of your guys are thrilled to be co-operating with Torchwood on this, but the alternative is … yes, they really are that bad… Yes, I’ll keep you informed …we should have an answer later today… Can I leave it to you to arrange for media coverage and alerts? Thank you… I will.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ianto had shut his eyes and drifted off despite himself. The last thing he’d been aware of had been Jack on the phone, insistently asking to speak to Kathy Swanson. He’d wanted to listen in on that conversation, if for no other reason, then to know what harm Jack had inflicted on their already strained relationships with the police force. However, he’d failed to remain fully conscious and had slid into a numbing state of drowsiness that smothered Jack’s conversation as effectively as a thick woollen blanket would have done. Subconsciously he was aware of Jack’s voice dipping into that deep growl that signalled either arousal or anger. 

It was the slamming of the phone’s receiver which not only woke Ianto, but confirmed which of the two moods Jack was in. Opening his eyes, Ianto blinked as he focused on the figure of Jack looming over him, his arms tightly folded over his chest, hands tucked under his arms. Jack was angry, bordering on livid if his body language was anything to go by.

“When were you going to tell me?” 

Jack glared at the crumpled figure of Ianto, curled up on the sofa in his office, blinking at him in confusion. He was furious, not just with Ianto, but with himself, he’d almost forgotten about the attacks on the younger man, the bruises around his eyes and across his nose stark reminders of what had happened to him. Jack had seen it as a personal failure on his part not to have done more to protect Ianto.

“About what?” asked Ianto, his brow furrowed as he tried to work out what could have possibly annoyed Jack so much.

“Evans and Morris.” Jack spat out the two names.

“Oh, them.” Ianto winced as he felt the anger radiating from Jack. 

“Yeah – them. It seems they admitted having carried out an assault on you that was fuelled by homophobia. That was apparently enough to satisfy Swanson’s immediate superior who sent the bastards home, pending further enquiries.”

“Homophobia?” Ianto frowned. Although the insults flung at him had definitely been heavily weighted in that direction, the reason he’d been assaulted had not just been about his relationship with Jack. “No question about that, but they were severely pissed off with Torchwood. The special treatment I got wasn’t just because of whatever it is we’ve got going on between us.”

“I know.” Jack sighed as he sat down on the arm of the sofa. “However, as of now, you’re grounded. You don’t leave the base.”

“What? I’m not a twelve-year-old!” Ianto struggled to sit up, literally refusing to take Jack’s pronouncement lying down.

“No way. You may as well have a target painted on your back!” Jack retorted, pushing Ianto back onto the sofa as he tried to stand up. “You’re still sick dammit, so it’s not like you’re fit enough to evade two rogue coppers who’ve already tried to kill you once.”

“Not this again. How many times-”

“They’ve gone missing. They didn’t report in when they were meant to and according to their wives, they never made it home at all.” 

Jack decided to keep quiet about Swanson’s accusations that that he’d got rid of them, because if he’d known they were on the loose he would have been sorely tempted to make them disappear permanently. 

“You’re not well, Ianto – look at you, you’re sweating. Please? For me? Just stay here until we can deal with this together.”

“You expect me to sit here and just wait?”

Before Jack had the chance to formulate an answer to Ianto’s question, Owen stormed into the office.

“Jack? I heard yelling, so I figured Ianto’s awake.” 

Owen looked across to Ianto who was now sitting up on the sofa, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“Oh good, he’s sweating – that means the fever is breaking. Thank fuck for that.”

“I still feel like shit,” grumbled Ianto.

“Yeah – well it will take a while yet. You just need to lie down and rest.”

“See, that makes two of us telling you to stay put.” Jack glared at Ianto before turning his attention to Owen who looked eager to share some news and by the looks of it, it was good news. “What’s up then? Found the answer?”

“We’re onto something. Bactericidal detergent – the surfactant will break through the waxy cuticle on the plants’ leaves and get the active ingredient in contact with the bacteria. Won’t cause any permanent damage to other plants or animals and the brand we’re thinking of using is biodegradable.”

“Will it work?”

“No reason it shouldn’t – we should probably try it out on some living plants first. I’ll do it, because they can’t kill me. Tosh is finding a supplier that has large quantities in stock – if it works, we reckon that Rhys can take one of his trucks to go fetch the stuff and drive it up to the airport.”

“That sounds brilliant, Owen – what do you need me to do?” Ianto asked as he leaned forward on the sofa keen to help. However, Jack put an arm out in front of him gently pushing him back into his seat.

“You’re doing nothing! I’ve warned you once already about what I’ll do if you try to move from this office.”

“Don’t bother rolling your eyes, teaboy,” Owen shook his head. “You agreed to making him boss again, you’ve only yourself to blame. Anyway, he’s got a point, you need to stay here and get well. You’ve had a rough few days and if you don’t take it easy voluntarily, I’ll sign you off on medical leave.”

“Bloody hell, you’re ganging up on me.” Ianto looked from one man to the other, realising that any arguments he could come up with would be instantly quashed. 

“Karma, mate, it’s your turn. Right, Jack – you up for some triffid hunting?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jack grinned, happy that he could get out and take some decisive action. “Stop pouting, Ianto – anyone would think you were jealous. I’ll see you in the garage, Owen.”

After Owen left the office, Jack grabbed hold of his coat from the rack and pulled it on, but before following Owen, he turned back to the sofa and crouched down next to Ianto. Placing his hands on Ianto’s shoulders, he leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Just get well for me. That’s all I want you to do – it might not seem much to you, but it means the world to me. Got it?”

“Yeah – love you too,” whispered Ianto as Jack swept out, coat tails furling around his legs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fucking hell! We’re going to need a bigger bottle!” 

“No shit, Owen!”

Retreating rapidly back down the rickety fire escape staircase, Jack turned to Owen and shook his head.

“Gimme that bottle, I’ll just throw the lot at it.”

“Don’t get too close – and don’t let it touch you!” Owen shouted out instructions he figured Jack would probably ignore. 

Unscrewing the spray dispenser from the bottle of disinfectant, Jack stealthily climbed back onto the roof top overlooking Albany Road. He was glad he’d not brought Ianto with him – he’d already built up quite an aversion to this part of the city. Slowly moving towards the edge of the wall, beyond which they’d witnessed the horrific outcome of the next stage in the alien plant’s evolution, Jack was shocked when a tendril suddenly appeared in front of him, waving around close to his face, as if sniffing him. Taking a deep breath, Jack dashed forward and threw the entire contents of the bottle over the dark purple stems that were writhing across the tiled space towards him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ianto? What are you doing?” Tosh looked up from her computer as she heard the stairs creaking as Ianto tried to sneak down to the main area of the Hub. “Both Owen and Jack said you weren’t to get up.”

“They’re not here though are they?” pointed out Ianto, petulantly. “You’re not going to tell tales, are you?”

“No, Ianto.” Tosh replied, taking in the uncharacteristic scruffy appearance of her colleague, shirt untucked and feet bare. “How are you feeling? You’re looking a little better.”

“To be honest, I’m starving. I don’t suppose you know if there’s anything to eat?” Ianto hadn’t been able to rest and after a while his rumbling stomach had forced him to leave the office in search of something to eat.

“If you sit down, I’ll go find out – sandwich do?” 

“That would be wonderful.” Ianto sat down at one of the computers. He may have been ‘grounded’ but he had no intention of being kept totally in the dark.

“You’re welcome.” 

Tosh smiled fondly at the way Ianto was surreptitiously logging onto the network. She could understand his need to know what was going on. However, the sight of him with his hair sticking out at odd angles and the stubble on his jaw indicated that he was far from fully recovered. The Ianto she had become accustomed to working with would never dream of coming to work looking like that. He looked as if he’d just crawled out of bed, after a very late night. 

“I’ll make some tea as well, you look as if you could do with some.”

“Any word from Jack? Or Owen?” Ianto tried to sound casual and failed.

“Nothing – but they can’t get into too much trouble, can they?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack? Jack! What the fuck’s going on?” Owen had been startled by the screams he’d heard before everything had gone silent.

“It’s OK – I think I’ve done it,” Jack called back, out of breath, but sounding cautiously optimistic.

Owen wasted no time in joining Jack at the top of the fire escape. The plant was no longer moving, which reassured him immensely. Its leaves were beginning to look flaccid, as if the life had been sucked from them and it appeared much smaller than it had before.

“So far, so good. I didn’t expect it work that fast.” Owen was impressed. “They must be totally reliant on the bacteria for all their biochemical functions – it’s the only explanation for this.”

“Are you saying it’s dead? Is that a medical opinion?”

“I’m a doctor, Jack, not a bloody gardener. And there’s no way I’m checking that fucking thing for a pulse. But it’s looking pretty dead for now – if nothing else, harmless enough to be tackled with weed killer or a flamethrower to make sure it’s not just playing dead.”

“Are you convinced enough for me to go ahead and spray the whole of Cardiff with this stuff?”

Owen hesitated briefly and then caught sight of a swollen area at the end of one of the side shoots and then another. They had to be flower buds.

“We haven’t got a choice, Jack. It’s getting ready to flower again.”


	49. Chapter 49

“That’s great news, Owen – I’ll get onto it straightaway. They’re what? Damn – let’s just hope that we can kill them before they do. See you soon.”

“Well?” Ianto asked anxiously.

“It worked! Next thing is to confirm the order I made, get Rhys to pick the stuff up and then locate which areas Jack needs to target first. Owen said the plants are getting ready to flower again.”

“Shit. Why don’t I get onto the suppliers and Rhys while you make a start on target spotting. I'll help you after I get off the phone – your program is still active, yes? The one to detect the plants from satellite images?”

“Yes, the short cut is ‘Triffid tracker’ – and from what Owen said, the plants are much bigger now – should be easier to identify clusters of them than it was before.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s up, love?” asked Rhys looking worried. He’d heard his name mentioned more than once as Gwen had taken a call from Ianto. He really hoped they weren’t ordering him to be sent home, because if Harkness tried that, he’d refuse point blank. 

“You’ve got a job to do, sweetheart. We need you to take a truck out to Parklands Industrial Estate – Tosh will send instructions directly to the Harwoods depot. They’ve found something that will kill the plants – you need to pick it up from the warehouse and bring it back here.”

“Oh, right then, I’d best be off then.” Rhys grinned broadly, delighted to have been entrusted with such a key role. He gave Gwen a massive hug and pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips. “See you soon, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are meant to be resting – Jack will fucking kill you if he finds out!” snarled Owen, jabbing a finger at Ianto. He could not believe his patient was sitting at his desk, scrolling through roof top images, a half-eaten sandwich in his left hand. “Tosh? I thought I told you he wasn’t allowed down here.”

Tosh shrugged as she looked up from her computer, apparently occupied in the same task as Ianto. 

“He was hungry. What was I meant to do, send him back to his room with nothing to eat?”

Ianto looked up guiltily, licking crumbs from his lips. 

“Bloody hell, you’re getting worse than Jack.” Owen shook his head, realising that an unkempt Ianto had a certain charm that would have proved irresistible to Tosh’s caring nature.

“I take it he’s gone straight to the airport then?” asked Ianto, looking a little disappointed, but not surprised.

“Yeah – he’s like a bloody big kid, he can’t wait to get up in the air. I’m glad he dropped me off here first, not sure I could’ve taken one more story about his time in the RAF, flying Lancaster bombers.”

“He left his flying goggles on his desk.” 

“I thought those were for kinky role play, along with the white scarf,” chuckled Owen. “Meanwhile, care to explain what you’re doing down here anyway?”

“Eating,” quipped Ianto, brandishing the crust of his sandwich. “I was starving.” 

“I can see that, smartarse. I meant on the computer – what are you two looking for?”

“Big plants for Jack to spray first – Tosh said you reckoned some were about to flower, so we thought we’d identify some targets for him to start with.”

“Good idea, but Tosh can take care of that on her own for now while I give you a check up. I’m not having you keel over before he gets back. He’ll never let us hear the end of it.”

“I’m feeling better, really.” Ianto tried to protest, but Owen had taken him by the arm and was already pulling him out of his seat.

“Yeah? You still look awful, but that might be because you’ve not bothered getting dressed yet. Harkness might like to have you ready to unwrap, but the rest of us have got used to you being suited and booted.”

Owen didn’t bother looking, but he could tell from the lack of smart retort that Ianto had just figured out what he probably looked like and was feeling embarrassed. That was good, if he was beginning to become more self conscious, he probably was getting better.

Walking down to the autopsy bay, with Ianto trailing behind him, Owen was pleased to find a post-it from Tosh on his desk, stating simply: ‘the Tet worked best’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I see – and you say this stuff is harmless to humans, but we should advise the general public to stay indoors until you’ve finished? This is the last time, Harkness, the only reason I’ve managed to persuade my people to co-operate is that two officers suffered burns from one of those bloody things up at the Castle… yeah, they’re at St Helen’s… that would be appreciated, thanks… I’ll let them know your medic will be on his way… Good luck, Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bloody hell – does he know what he’s doing?” asked Rhys, incredulously.

“Says he’s flown everything from biplanes to spaceships,” explained Gwen. “So I guess he does.”

“But, Gwen – did you see that! If he was any bloody lower he’d be able to go window shopping!”

“Um… maybe that was a bit low.” Gwen bit her lip as she peered through the binoculars observing Jack’s progress as he strafed the rooftops of the shopping centre and surrounding streets.

“He’s going to crash into something, that’s what he’s going to do, if he keeps that up.”

“Bloody show off he is…”

“Why did he have to fly the bloody plane? That other bloke does it for a living, wouldn’t it make more sense to let him do the flying?”

“Rhys Williams!” Gwen raised her eyebrows and shook her head at her husband in disbelief. “This is Captain Jack Harkness you’re talking about, you know, goes around in a bloody great big RAF coat? Did you think for one millisecond there was any way we’d have been able to stop him? Do you actually think he’d pass up on the chance to get behind the controls of a bloody plane, even a crop spraying plane?”

“He’s not good at delegating then I take it?” Rhys huffed.

“Not really, no.” Gwen sighed at what had to be the understatement of the year. “Shit - I bet half the population of Cardiff have sent pictures around the country of this by now. It’s probably already on YouTube, ‘madman takes to the air over Cardiff’.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“Hope not, we’ve not got enough retcon for that many people. Anyway, Andy told me that all available officers were out on the streets, leafleting and going door to door to tell people to stay indoors. The cover story is aerial spraying to kill a swarm of mosquitoes brought in on one of the container ships. The public have been told there’s a risk they’re carrying a potentially fatal exotic disease. So there goes tourism for the next few weeks.”

“If only they knew just how exotic it was, hey? Alien man-eating plants. Bloody hell.” 

“Best they never find out.” Gwen squeezed Rhys’ hand, seeing how thrilled he was to be one of the few to know the truth.

“Amazing how gullible people can be, though – really, they’d believe anything.”

Gwen chose not to remind Rhys how he’d once explained away various alien events as mass hallucinations. That had been a long time ago, before she’d even heard of Torchwood. She smiled and lifted her binoculars up once more, focusing on the solitary plane that swooped low over the landmarks of Cardiff. She could just make out a fine pink mist that descended from the edges of its wings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did I ever tell you about the secret Spitfire squadron, equipped with gravity bubbles that left the Earth’s atmosphere –”

“Stop bullshitting us, Jack.” Gwen playfully slapped Jack about the head. “Honestly, you think we’ll buy any old load of crap you tell us, don’t you?”

Jack smiled to himself and shook his head. It wasn’t surprising that the true stories were often more outrageous than those he fabricated. However, the memory made him momentarily melancholic as he wondered how many times in the twentieth century his path had almost crossed with a Doctor that wasn’t his. He’d never been able to figure out whether they came before or after the one he’d first met, so he always avoided them, apart from that one fateful time when he’d been unable to resist the lure of the TARDIS as it landed on his front door. Shaking his head to dislodge painful memories, he let Gwen and Rhys lead the way back into the Hub. Beyond them he could see Ianto, now shaved and wearing a particularly fetching pinstripe suit. He was still looking tired, but no longer feverish and sickly.

“Ianto! Why aren’t you resting up like you were told to?”

“What and deny you a hero’s welcome?” 

Ianto let himself be swept up in a bone crushing hugs, before allowing himself to be kissed breathless by a Jack buoyed up on success. He wasn’t feeling one hundred percent better, but a shower, shave and change of clothes, along with another dose of meds from Owen had certainly made him feel more like himself. He’d been mortified to have Owen point out to him that he looked like a hungover student who had fallen asleep in the clothes he’d been wearing the night before. To have his dress sense criticised by a badly dressed corpse had been the last straw.

Jack didn’t let go of Ianto as he looked across to Tosh, who was smiling at them both.

“All that’s left is the clear up operation – the Fire and Rescue services are going to tackle that.”

“Thanks for co-ordinating that, Tosh.” Jack graced her with a grateful smile.

“Is it really over then?” asked Tosh, anxiously.

“Yeah – we’ve done it.”


	50. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter - contains a scene of an explicit nature.

Epilogue 

Jack had insisted on buying champagne at the pub, even though Owen couldn’t drink it and Ianto had been told in no uncertain terms that he was only allowed a single glass. That meant that Gwen and Tosh had polished most of it off between them. Rhys had settled for pints with whisky chasers, but had slowed down when he noticed how tipsy Gwen was getting. He’d decided to take her home while she could still put one foot in front of the other.

“I think I’d better pour Gwen into a taxi and get her home. If I let her embarrass herself in public, she’ll never forgive me.” 

“I’m not that… hic… there’s time for another, what d’you say Jack?” Gwen ran her fingers up and down the neck of the champagne bottle before clutching it pornographically and raising it to her lips to drain the dregs. Keeping her eyes locked on Jack’s she almost missed the table as she set the bottle down with a thud.

“Let Rhys take you home, Gwen.” Jack leaned forward to move the empty bottle away from the edge of the table. “Do you need a hand, Rhys?”

“To the door would be good, mate.” Rhys helped Gwen to her feet and Jack took the other side, lending his support.

Owen nudged Ianto and pointed out the fact that Gwen had her hand firmly planted on Jack’s backside.

“You should have words with her, Ianto. She’s trespassing on your property.”

“As long as she keeps her hands outside of his pants, I’ll let her cop a feel without reprimanding her.”

“What if he returns the favour?”

“He’d better make sure I never find out.” Ianto fixed Owen with a look that made it clear that he wasn’t going to rise to the bait.

Glancing back towards the corner table, Jack saw the other two men deep in conversation. He was relieved when Ianto looked up and winked at him. It had looked like a serious discussion, but the look in Ianto’s eyes was enough to let him know all was well. He smiled back and held the door open so that Rhys could get Gwen out into the fresh air.

“Good work today, Rhys – thanks for your help. Tell Gwen she’s got the day off tomorrow, OK?” Jack patted Rhys on the back as he followed them outside.

“Thanks, Jack. I doubt she’d be up to much even if she did try to make it in.” With Gwen leaning heavily on his arm, Rhys set a course for the taxi rank. “Come on, love, let’s get you home.”

Jack watched on wistfully as Rhys and Gwen shared a kiss as they waited in line for a taxi. He was glad he’d persuaded Gwen not to let it drift, she needed Rhys. Sighing to himself, he returned to the warm, muggy air of the pub in time to see Owen and Ianto helping Tosh find her handbag that she’d apparently dropped under the table.

“I’ll make sure Tosh gets home in one piece as well,” Owen said.

“I’m fine-”

“I know you can take down a grown man with one jab from those bloody heels, but there’s not much more I can actually do these days, so for fuck’s sake let me pretend I’m seeing you home safely.”

“Since you put it like that, I’d be eternally grateful if you could escort me home, thank you.” Tosh maintained a straight face, just. “I’ll just go to the loo first – won’t be a minute.”

As soon as Tosh was out of earshot, Owen sat down opposite Jack and Ianto, who were both looking unbearably smug. It didn’t escape his notice that Jack’s hand was resting on Ianto’s thigh and that they were sitting a lot closer together than they usually did in public. He didn’t want to think about what had been going on under the table all evening, but from the way Ianto had almost choked on his glass of fruit juice at one point, it was nothing he wouldn’t put past Harkness. Jack had seemed particularly attentive. It always took nearly losing any of them that made him more appreciative of his team. The person he usually took most for granted had been the centre of his attention all evening. Owen couldn’t resist teasing Ianto.

“Oi, teaboy – you might not have had any booze to drink, but I’ve seen him sticking his tongue down your throat, whenever he thinks no one’s looking that is, which means you’ve probably had more alcohol than you should, considering your condition-”

“I’m not pregnant, Owen.” Ianto rolled his eyes dramatically. “Not unless there’s something about those bloody plants you never told us.”

“What if I was to tell you that those bacteria could genetically modify your internal organs, and that you could get impregnated by Captain Biggles here?” Owen laughed out loud as Ianto visibly paled. 

“Don’t even joke about that, Owen.” Jack shook his head and wrapped an arm around Ianto’s shoulders to pull him even closer to his side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack and Ianto didn’t stay long at the pub after the others had all left. Jack settled the bill behind the bar and then they made their way back towards the Tourist Office entrance.

“We could’ve used the lift you know – there’s nobody around. Literally, no body – the place is deserted.” Ianto commented.

“Yeah – they’re still scared of catching the dengue fever or Ebola – whatever rumour it was Kathy had broadcast.”

“So why are we going this way?” Ianto tugged on Jack’s hand that was firmly clasping his own.

“Because.” Jack smiled enigmatically and swung Ianto around, capturing him in a tight embrace so he could kiss him soundly, halting any other questions.

As they continued along the boardwalk towards the side entrance to the Hub, the sound of water slapping the underneath of the wooden planks was loud in the still air. There was a light breeze coming off the water, but otherwise it was peaceful. 

Ianto was about to reach into his pocket for the key, when Jack stopped him and pushed him gently towards one of the benches. Ianto didn’t resist as he felt Jack’s large warm hands insinuate themselves under his jacket, pulling his shirt from his trousers and then clutching him close. It was as if Jack was desperate to feel his skin once more.

Pushing Ianto down onto the bench, Jack straddled his lap, trapping him beneath his body. He leant in to capture Ianto’s lips and mouth in a kiss that distracted him from what Jack’s hands were doing. That was until the cool air made its presence felt on bare skin revealed as Jack had unzipped his trousers and let them fall open.

“Jack? Let’s get inside,” gasped Ianto.

“That’s what I intend to do.” Jack’s breath hitched as he nuzzled Ianto’s throat, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“I meant indoors,” gasped Ianto.

“No – want you. Now and here…like you said, there’s no one around.”

Jack’s hands had moved down and were now pushing into Ianto’s boxers, sliding them down over his hips, giving even more cold air access to his skin. Dropping to his knees on the ground between Ianto’s legs, Jack grabbed hold of Ianto’s hips and took Ianto’s cock into his mouth, knowing exactly how the sudden warmth after the cool air would feel. He smiled to himself as Ianto whimpered. Jack’s talented tongue worked Ianto until he sensed he was on the verge of coming and then he gripped the base of his cock as he let it slip from between his lips. 

Ianto swore and bashed his head against the back of the bench in frustration. 

“Not yet.” 

Jack’s voice was low and breathless. He stood up and pulled Ianto to his feet, before dragging his trousers down exposing his arse to the cold night air. Wrapping Ianto up inside his coat, Jack ran his hands all over the other man’s body, even as Ianto returned the favour, their bodies pressed close together, their mouths seeking each other out, kisses messy, teeth clashing and lips bitten in their eagerness to ravish each other.

Reluctantly, Jack broke the kiss and turned Ianto around, so he was facing the bench, the cold breeze making him shiver as the warmth of Jack’s coat was withdrawn from him.

“’s cold.” 

“I’ll warm you up soon enough …” Jack breathed warm air onto Ianto’s neck as he whispered into his ear. “I don’t want you to touch yourself at all … got it?”

Ianto snorted as he held up his hands, indicating that the bandages were still in place. 

“Not going to be a problem.”

He nodded as Jack carefully placed his hands on the back of the bench, positioning him and nudging his legs further apart with a knee as he did so. Taking a sachet of lube from his coat pocket, Jack then proceeded to slowly prepare Ianto until he could see his knuckles turn white as he gripped hold of the wooden bench. Unzipping his own trousers, Jack could feel Ianto tremble in anticipation as he heard the sound.

Jack ran the tip of his tongue over the curve of one of Ianto’s ears and then sucked hard on the earlobe, delighting in the soft gasp that escaped Ianto’s lips. Taking advantage of the distraction, Jack moved closer, pressing the tip of his cock between the buttocks he was holding apart carefully. He could feel the slipperiness in the cleft of Ianto’s arse and let his engorged cock slide along it, as he teased the younger man.

“Ready?” he whispered. A short nod of the head was the only response he got, but that was good – if Ianto had been capable of words, he’d have known he’d not done enough. 

Pressing in slowly, Jack took his time, the cool air on the back of his thighs a sharp contrast to the warmth of Ianto’s back and the heat that surrounded his cock. Holding back, Jack moved out slowly and then forward once more, gradually filling Ianto, until he was in as deep as possible. Reaching around with one hand, Jack traced a pathway down Ianto’s chest, eventually taking hold of his weeping cock, which virtually jumped in his hand as if desperate for contact. He ran his fingertips gently over the silky skin sheathing the hard flesh, before grasping it harder and pumping it slowly at first as he built up his own rhythm thrusting in and out of Ianto, gradually increasing his pace. He could tell from Ianto’s grunts and gasps that he wanted this as much as he did. After weeks of sickbeds and gentle sex, they needed something like this, rough and hard, outdoors. 

Ianto’s hands were grasping for purchase on the back of the bench, as he felt Jack slamming into him, faster and faster, losing control as he got closer to coming. Jack then pushed him forward, changing the angle so he was hitting Ianto in just the right spot again and again, until the only thing holding him up was Jack’s arm around his waist. He came hard, spurting against the back of the bench and dripping over Jack’s hand, which let go as the older man then used both hands to hold on tight to Ianto’s hips as he grunted loudly and came with a yell. Ianto felt Jack come deep inside him and was aware of the older man collapsing on top of him as the weight pushing him down increased. 

The edges of Jack’s coat encased them both in a warm cocoon as their breathing returned to normal, keeping the cold night air at bay until they were capable of moving into an awkward embrace on the narrow bench.

“You OK?” Jack asked, pressing a kiss to Ianto’s sweaty forehead.

“I think I’ve got splinters in my fingers and the dressings are wrecked. My knees are going to be bruised …but apart from that, I’m good.” Ianto grabbed hold of the lapels of Jack’s coat to pull the other man close enough to indulge in the type of post orgasmic kiss that conveys feelings more reliably than words. “You?”

“Yeah – I’m good.” Jack grinned and hugged Ianto tight. “So, you were saying something about taking this indoors?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they slowly made their way up the stairs towards Jack’s office they both noticed the flashing light on the phone indicating a message had been left while they’d been out. 

“Who could that have been?” wondered Ianto out loud. He had seen Jack set up the Rift monitor and other alert systems to divert urgent alarms to his wrist strap. Whoever had left the message had not needed their immediate attention.

Jack kept one arm around Ianto’s waist as he pressed the button to play back the message. It was from Kathy Swanson.

“Harkness, check your email. This had better not be anything to do with Torchwood.”

That was it, short and to the point. Swanson had sounded rushed as if leaving a message quickly, not wanting to be overheard.

“What the hell’s going on?” Jack sat down heavily in his chair and booted up his computer to check his email. Ianto sat on the edge of the desk nervously and was comforted as Jack reached out to take his hand.

There was nothing in the subject line or any other content – just two attachments. Jack opened them – coroner’s reports, preliminary findings on the causes of death of two men – Evans and Morris. Jack took a sharp intake of breath and he heard Ianto swallow hard. The indications all pointed to the two men having been executed – they’d both been shot in the head and dumped in the river, making it more difficult to ascertain time of death. Very little forensic evidence had been found on their bodies, although they had both been found to have cocaine in their bloodstreams. The only evidence found had left the coroner thoroughly perplexed. But not Jack. Several broken red scales had been scraped out from under the men’s fingernails.

Red scales, apparently fish scales. A footnote stated that pictures had been sent to the Natural History Museum to see if they could establish the species of fish from which the scales had come. Jack knew that they wouldn’t find anything on their database. Not unless the Museum had kept quiet about its discovery of bipedal, air breathing, drug-dealing blowfish and somehow, he didn’t think that they’d have been able to keep that from the media.

The pieces of a puzzle that had been bothering him ever since Ianto had been arrested in the club on Albany Road were slowly beginning to fall into place. The picture that was emerging was one that Jack didn’t like, not one bit.

“Jack? What’s going on? What does this mean?”

“I don’t know for certain – but I’m gonna find out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sequel - exploring fishy circumstances. Everything is not as it seems.
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
